


Made for the Movie Screens

by CreativeDestruction



Series: Made for the Movie Scenes (Edited) [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Although briefly and not in detail, America being America (Hetalia), America the hero!, Anri is Belgium, Crossdressing, Dancing and Singing, Drinking, England Needs Tea (Hetalia), Fully Edited, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Inspired by a Movie, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Other, Pole Dancing, Sex, She doesn't have a cannon name at least she didn't when I wrote this, Slow Burn, Swearing, Wealth, mentions of abuse, updated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 143,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24917401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeDestruction/pseuds/CreativeDestruction
Summary: The Original was posted 3 years ago on the 23 of June. Since then I have taken the time to completely edit it, although I am not a perfect human and I am pretty sure I was illiterate 3 years ago.Alfred F. Jones is a world famous actor, who has recently found himself on set with an equally famous actor; Arthur Kirkland. Alfred is determined to get to know the feisty, yet sometimes intolerable, Englishman as something about him seems... off. Arthur is hiding something and uses his acting ability to hide it all too well. Throughout their time on set the two get to talking and acting, and learn that their two roles are love interests, so in interest of the film Alfred offers Arthur to come to his home to practice their roles. Arthur finds himself safe and comfortable from the secret and the monster that he had been hiding for the past six years. Meanwhile, they also find an interest in one another, and something soon sparks between them.
Relationships: Alfred Jones/Arthur Kirkland, America/England (Hetalia), Austria/Hungary (Hetalia), Canada/Prussia (Hetalia), China/Russia (Hetalia), Denmark/Norway (Hetalia), England/France (Hetalia), Finland/Sweden (Hetalia), Germany/North Italy (Hetalia), Lithuania/Poland (Hetalia), Most are minor except for the main two, South Italy/Spain (Hetalia), past - Relationship
Series: Made for the Movie Scenes (Edited) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803175
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter One: Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 2020 me here. With all of the time I suddenly had under the belt I decide to tackle this fanfic and finally edit the shit out of it. It's been 3 years and I am pretty sure that I was illiterate back then and quite stupid too... Anyway, it took me a few weeks to edit this baby, but here it is; New and Improved. 
> 
> In the beginning of editing this I wanted to keep a lot of it the exact same, changing the things that didn't make sense or taking out things that I really didn't like, however, around chapter nine or ten I decided to full send and just edit the shit of of it and change some of the story as a whole with the hopes that it will be more polished, make more sense, will be easier to read, and be an overall more enjoyable story. 
> 
> I am completely aware that this is just a fanfic and that not all of the information is completely correct, but I left it that way on purpose. So if something seems off...it is intentional (and get over it i guess??) I've done a lot of growing in both writing, grammar, etc. over the past three years and I am much more confident posting this compared to the last one, although I am NOT an writing wizard, nor do I claim to be. If something is worded strangely it is because I edited at 3 am.
> 
> If you are wondering why this one doesn't have a special title like the other 21 of them do, it is because I couldn't decide on which one to use, it was either the opening lines from Prince's "Let's go Crazy" or "You can call me Al" by Paul Simon. The latter makes more sense but the Prince one is more funny to me.

**CHAPTER ONE: INTRODUCTION**

Alfred F. Jones was your typical movie star, filthy rich, lazy as hell, but overly dedicated to his work. The blonde was constantly at a studio or any audition that occasionally landed him across the country or in a different country entirely to do a film. Either way, he was always flashing his bright smile and talking to the people in charge or his manager, who was responsible for getting him important roles that have led him to be one of the most popular actors currently on set of a production that was said to make millions in theaters and around the world.

And, somehow, he managed to get the lead role, adjacent to none other than the infamous English actor Arthur Kirkland as the second lead. 

Arthur was a brilliant script writer as well as having a successful side role of acting, which was what he was apparently doing in this movie. 

They were both successful, yet, up until this point, they both never got along. The few times they had met, it had not ended well, though it was mostly harmless arguments. Despite that, both were asked to do their roles and neither would turn it down just because they couldn’t get along in the past. Hell, Alfred had only ever said a few words to the British man, so who was he to be the judge of the green eyed man’s annoying temper, strict rules, and orders when he was in charge of directing. Luckily for Alfred, he wasn’t in charge this time. 

After the third day on set Alfred started noticing different little things about Arthur that he probably wouldn’t have noticed if they didn’t have to share the same set. Otherwise, he probably wouldn’t have cared at all.

One: Arthur Kirkland was always polite to the people around him, unless he was discussing a scene. 

Two: He spent _way_ too much time getting makeup and costuming done. 

Three: The Englishman seemed to despise Alfred, even when the American hadn’t done anything wrong, he just so happened to always be on Arthur’s bad side. Alfred could tell that he wasn’t the only one though. A lot of the time Arthur was a nightmare to work with, but was a master at what he did, be that acting or writing. 

Four: Arthur hated being touched, but that was the least of it all. 

The American had only been on the set for days and all he wanted to do was go home to his overly large house, that was far too big for one person, that is unless his brother, Matthew, was staying over for a week or so, but even then it was lonely for the majority of the time. Alfred’s brother was a professional Hockey athlete that was recruited out of High school and traveled around the country for games, barely making time to see his American brother. 

As he snapped out of his daze, he unfortunately realized that he couldn’t go home just yet because he was still stuck in a conference. The studio that was producing the movie had gathered an incredible cast for a remake of an older film. Alfred had learned that it was a modern twist on a classic movie that was a bit different from what he had usually done. For example, the main love interests were both male and lucky for Alfred, Arthur just so happened to be his love interest, which is just another reason the American actor wanted to speed home in his expensive car, rip out his contact lenses, and settle on his couch with a large bowl of popcorn and watch something on the television and just hope he didn’t see himself on it, because is was usually too weird to comprehend. 

The star cast, however, was a mix of many different people playing many different roles for what critics were already saying was going to be the movie of the year, or a classic with a perfect twist. So far the people that Alfred recognised were; Arthur Kirkland, the English actor that was previously aforementioned and served as a part time model which Alfred just learned the day before when eavesdropping on a conversation between Francis Bonnefoy and another employee. 

Which brings him to the next cast member to mention; Francis Bonnefoy, who spent most of his time as a millionaire playboy living the high-life in Paris, or filling in for Fashion Week models, in acting, and designing costumes. The Frenchman always made sure that you knew what he was wearing, or who he was currently in a relationship with. Matthew introduced Alfred and Francis a while back because they had met at a gathering of some sorts and became good friends. Alfred had nothing against the guy other than the fact that he was showy and dramatic which was, overall, ultimately the perfect role for someone in the entertainment business. 

Alfred’s next stop was to observe the rest of the room, it ranged from all sorts of different people, Gilbert Beilschmidt being one of them, he was loud and narcissistic which is why some people said he and the Prussian got along so well. Sitting next to him was a more proper man with brown hair and a posture that could only be recognised as Roderich Elstein, who was the head of the music department for the majority of studios in Hollywood. If the movie producers could hire him they did and paid a good sum of money for it. After the Austrian was Elizabeta Héderváry, a pretty Hungarian that was a beast with a frying pan and if you got on her bad side; such as Gilbert had done a few times. You might as well forget about your face looking normal ever again, which could really be bad for show business. Somehow though, Gilbert still had a face that was made for the screens, like the rest of the people in the room.

Around the rest of the table was a popular Spaniard by the name of Antonio Carriedo, who was a lead in choreography and was also a well liked actor, though Alfred couldn’t figure out what the brown haired man was doing here at first. Sitting next to him were the two Italian brothers, Lovino and Feliciano. The two were complete opposites. Feliciano was happy and bouncing while the other was always grumpy and rude, but still they were the perfect duo together. The bouncy Italian was currently having an in depth conversation with Ludwig Beilschmidt, the brother of the one and only “AWESOME GILBERT”, however, they couldn’t have been more different. Ludwig was well built and much more mature than the self proclaimed Prussian, despite being the younger of the two. 

There were a few others as well, Alfred has learned over the many years in his career that it took a whole small city of people to make a million dollar franchise. The American supposed it was obvious to tell by the ending credits at the end of each movie. 

Alfred was called back into the current conversation and stopped zoning when Arthur decided to elbow him in the stomach. _Why did he have to take the seat next to the angry Brit?_ The Director’s had ended their main speech about how the next six months or so was going to go and how everything would be set up, as well as the main gist as to what the movie was about. Apparently, the most important part was something that Alfred missed. The casting agents for the film made sure everyone in the cast had a musical background or could at least sing or dance or something or another that Alfred missed. 

It was just occurring to the American that he should stop binge watching marathons, but the blue eyed man was convinced that watching others could make him better, so he made the terrible choice of watching everything that Arthur Kirkland had ever been in just to figure out what he was up against. Between seeing the other blonde in real life compared to movies nothing much was different, somehow he was still stunning, his small build was perfect for the role he was cast along with the way he was in real life, he was probably a few inches shorter than Alfred himself. Alfred would say that the green eyed man probably would come up to right under his chin if they were to stand facing each other, give or take a few centimeters.

Alfred didn’t realise he was staring until he heard Arthur clear his throat and wave his hand in front of the American’s face. 

Arthur wasn’t impressed by his American co-star, the man seemed to be distracted all the time and downright lazy which is what Arthur supposed young people did with money. He himself wasn’t much older than anyone in the room but at least he wasn’t a stupid git that didn’t even pay attention at one of the most important meetings of the process. Arthur was now staring back at the wheat haired blonde that sat next to him around the huge round table that sat in the middle of an equally large conference room. The American seemed to stand a head taller than himself and had the bluest eyes he had probably ever seen on a human being, he wondered if they should have switched roles considering the appearance of whom they were acting as.

Either way, now was not the time for yelling at the American who probably was bored out of his mind. But Arthur had found that when the American was listening that he was quite passionate about the whole process of making a film. There was currently a discussion between the cast and the directors about script changes or last minute ideas before the final reading of the full script that had been moved to tomorrow because some of the actors and actresses couldn’t make it. 

The assignment that was given to the members of the movie was to go over their parts in the script and adjust to and get a feel for their character. Arthur felt that this would be a bit harder for himself considering he was asked to play a role that was originally supposed to be played by a woman. At first Arthur had been frustrated about having to play a woman’s role and blamed it on his small stature and curved figure, but he was still a man nonetheless. Eventually the gentleman came to the conclusion that the lady in the film was fiery and might be fun to play, she had a dynamic sense to her that he could have fun with while playing her part. Gender didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, he just hoped the rest of the public would understand. 

Alfred already knew he would love his part in this, it was like perfect mix of old time and new time with a party scene in the beginning that was to die for, to bad they didn’t start filming for another two weeks he was pretty sure that he would nail this part first try, he wasn’t so sure for Arthur though but considering his other previous roles he would probably be fine. 

A few hours later Alfred was safely back on his beloved couch scanning through the whole one hundred and twenty two paged script printed on full whitepages that he held in his hands until a certain few words caught his eye. Alfred had taken out his contact lenses and into his glasses as soon as he was at home and ditched his security detail before settling on the couch. Alfred adjusted his glasses to sit closer to his eyes on the bridge of his nose, and to be honest he felt like an old man doing it even though he was only twenty-one. 

The words that specifically caught Alfred’s eyes were the ones where Arthur was apparently supposed to be in some ridiculously revealing clothing or so the script says and trying to ‘seduce’ Alfred’s character only to have a few descriptive paragraphs later says they are in the same bed but Alfred’s character is rejecting the advancing moves that Arthur is going to be doing. 

Arthur happened to be doing the same thing that Alfred who doing, sitting in his large house, making sure the door was locked and then started reading through the script as his distracting French friend by the name of Francis noisily popped open a bottle of red wine before grabbing two glasses from Arthur cabinets and sitting down next to the Englishman. 

“So you think you can do it, Mon ami?” Francis asked, throwing one leg over the other and relaxing his arm on the back of the red couch that sat in Arthur’s living room. 

“What do you mean ‘Do you think I can do it’? Of course I can bloody do it. Just who do you think I am?” Arthur spat back, scanning down the first few pages of his part that was highlighted. Francis and Arthur had a past that Francis wouldn’t be afraid to deny, but Arthur would just rather forget about. Somehow a while ago the Frenchman and the Englishman were in a strange relationship for a while until they both decided that a ‘Friends with benefits’ way of life wasn’t what was best. There was only one exception; that being if they were both totally trashed at a bar and accidentally went to one of their houses. For the most part however, Arthur couldn’t stand to be in the same room as the long haired blonde. Even looking at his face with the stupid excuse for a beard could want to make Arthur punch him in the face, but he had to consider that the stupid frog was his only friend and the Frenchman was also a great rehearsing buddy so it wasn’t all at loss. 

“What I mean, Angleterre, is that this part is played by a female and as far as I’ve seen, you are not female.” Francis said, lifting Arthur’s chin with his fingers and turning the blonde's head side to side like he was observing him closely. 

“Will you shut it before I kick you out of my house? Of course I know what the part is, I accepted the bloody role!” Arthur snapped, while his face had a hint of red, which Francis figured that it was either from his effective face touching or out of anger. Sometimes Francis thought he should be more concerned for his gorgeous face when around Arthur, knowing the Brit could punch him hard enough to dislocate his nose, but he never saw the point. 

“Why don’t we go through it, non?” Francis suggested, flipping open his own copy of the film’s script. Francis was cast as the owner of the club that Arthur was to work at. The Frenchman was just waiting until Arthur got far enough into the script to see what was up and coming as his part as the main dancer. 

As soon as Arthur saw the part Francis was looking at he was sure that his green eyes might have fallen right out of his head. 

“I didn’t sign up for this.” Arthur groaned, and chugged the rest of the drink in his glass, at this point he didn’t even care what it was as long as it would let him forget about what he had to do until tomorrow or at least put it off for as long as possible. 

Over the few days after meeting Arthur, Alfred had told himself that he would get to know the cranky Brit if it was the last thing he did. The only reason being because he was curious as to why he could be so lovely on screen and a complete ass in real life. But the answer was not as simple it could have been, such as something like it was because he was an actor or that Alfred just didn’t know Arthur that well yet and hopefully they would get to know each other better by the time they started filming in a week or two. But he was wrong about each one of those theories.

For the first two weeks of production, the cast members were to have costumes fitted and makeup tested for cameras and what looked best for them, while they individually learned their parts in the movie to make it a whole. 

Arthur was dreading everything. 

First it was the few parts in the script that he figured he couldn’t ask to take out and make up. What everybody on this set didn’t know was that Arthur had a dark secret that could possibly cost him his career. 

What Arthur didn’t know was that in the following weeks his secret would be figured out by the person he least wanted it to be. 


	2. “If our love song could fly over mountains, could laugh at the ocean, just like the films…”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “As for a first impression and conversation with a person I barely know, this has been one of the strangest.” Arthur observed, and averted his eyes to the wood floor looking for nothing in particular. 
> 
> Arthur and Alfred have their first reason conversation, even if it is under strange circumstances. 
> 
> (From this point on my summaries prolly won't be shit compared to what the actual chapter is like. I suck at summaries, period.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Absolute Beginners By David Bowie. Ya know? Cuz it the beginning of the fic or whatever, I don't even know, I just figured that anything was better than the titles that I had previously. I bet I'll end up regretting these titles too and then I'll edit the story again three years from now too.

**Chapter two: The Plot**

It was only the fourth day on set, and the scheduled day of the script reading. During these there was usually everybody that was going to have a speaking role, and then some, in the room reading through the entire script and acting their way through it while screenwriters wrote down observations and made sure all the actors were perfected for their parts, which made some nervous but certainly not the American. 

The narrator for the session started reciting the well put together script. Nobody for the first reading was going to sing anything or start dancing because it was a standard reading. Everybody went along with with their own highlighted part, though there was a sort of humorous laughter at the sex scene that was almost inevitable, especially in this day and age. Yet they would still have to go through it eventually. 

Alfred wasn’t going to complain because he would be lying if he said the Brit wasn’t attractive. Maybe Alfred was lucky in that case. 

But the rest of the world didn’t need to know he was gay. Not yet at least, he supposed the movie he was currently reading from was going to give that suspicion away, or he could just play it off as an easy role when it came down to interviews and media coverage, but something told him when it did he wouldn’t be able to do it.

After an hour or two of waiting through the whole thing the people involved with the film were removed from the conference room and sent to get costumes made and dolled up for the cameras. Putting makeup on had almost become a normal ordeal in Alfred‘s life, because he was almost certain that the rest of the male population didn’t normally wear makeup everyday. But times were a’changing, probably for the better.

After getting the rest of that department done his next stop was the designers for the set and the people that were going to take measurements to make the set’s costumes. He then saw the Brit on the other side of the room and decided that he would go say ‘hi’, because out of the four days it had been since they had met they had probably talked once and it wasn’t worth noting or it was because it was dialogue in the script that they were reciting from. Alfred had told himself that he would get to know the Brit in the time that they had to spend together on set and because he wanted a way to kiss up to him so Arthur wouldn’t yell at him all the times that they would talk without acting. 

What Alfred didn’t expect to see when he went over to the pale blonde was the fact that he was currently being squished into a black corset and matching lower garments. Alfred’s eyes went wide when he saw the Brit, and he figured it would be a good conversation starter even though he had absolutely no idea why he would be wearing it. Alfred thought it had something to do with the part Arthur was allowing himself to do. But damn he looked good in it. 

By the time Alfred had made his way over to the green eyed man who was sat in a directors chair, or that’s what he thought they were called, the stylist had left to grab something or do whatever she was in charge of. 

Alfred plopped himself down in the chair that sat right next to the one Arthur was sat in. 

“That looks comfy.” Alfred smirked sarcastically, earning a scowl from the Brit who was currently also red in the face, probably because he didn’t expect Alfred would see him in such an attire before filming started. 

“You have got to be bloody kidding me right? This comfortable?” Arthur said breathlessly, vaguely gesturing to himself. Alfred thought it might be because it was pulling the other's insides together but he also thought that if Arthur got used to talking in it then it wouldn’t be so bad, so he continued the conversation with him.

“So what's it like wearing one of those things?” Alfred asked. Alfred could say that he wasn’t expecting the answer he got from the usually gentlemanly Englishman. 

“I can’t feel my penis.” Arthur deadpanned. “How about you get in one of these and tell me how it is, hm?” 

And he was back to the normally pissy Arthur that he was going to have to work with for the next six months. 

“Well since you're in it why don’t you get up and do a little spin, Artie?” Alfred asked, getting up from his own chair. Alfred, at the moment, couldn't deny that messing with Arthur wasn't hilarious, because it definitely was.

“My name is Arthur and I don’t think that will be possible.” 

“Aw, why not?” Alfred whined, and stood in front of Arthur, usually he wouldn’t ask a coworker to do such a thing but it was too tempting. Plus, Arthur had to know how good he looked in it, he was sitting in front of a mirror for god's sake. 

“Including the blasted fact that I can’t feel my vital regions, my legs are no exception.” Arthur crossed his arms, and looked with a glare at the American. Alfred had another plan though and that was to help the scowling blonde out of his chair which worked like a charm and left Arthur barefooted on the hardwood floor, still glaring at Alfred, and crossing his arms over the laced garment he was wearing. Under the corset was a pair of short shorts that were probably just a replacement for his normal pants so that it would be easier for changing out of the thing. 

“So now can you do a spin?” Alfred asked, even though this probably wasn’t helping the fact that Arthur possibly hated him. The British man still did it while unexpectedly still holding Alfred’s hand to keep himself standing upright. 

For some reason that Arthur couldn’t comprehend, he felt oddly comfortable around his new co-star and whereas this situation with any other person would have been unacceptable, he allowed himself to do a three-sixty before going back to his previous task of scowling and staring at the sandy haired blonde that just so happened to come up to him and start a conversation about his sketchy attire.

“As for a first impression and conversation with a person I barely know, this has been one of the strangest.” Arthur observed, and averted his eyes to the wood floor looking for nothing in particular. 

“Probably, but what else is there to know? I know ya know my name and I know your name.” Alfred suggested looking at Arthur’s green eyes. 

“You have a good point there, git.” Arthur tensed, while looking into Alfred’s eyes.

“I don’t know what that means but-” Alfred was cut off but another blonde coming into the room and announcing himself. Francis stood in some of his fancy clothes that were never anywhere under a thousand grand, but they still complimented his personality and style which was probably what he was going for in the first place. Arthur saw the Frenchman and automatically rolled his eyes at him when he started barking orders at some of the rookie designers. Arthur’s eyes somehow drifted back to the American whom he was standing in front of before climbing back into his chair to catch his breath again. 

“Is he even allowed to do that?” Alfred asked sitting himself next to Arthur who had since started fiddling with a string that was hanging off of the shorts. 

“Who bloody knows? But he certainly has more qualifications than most of the people in here.” Arthur complained, “Hell, I think they’re trying to kill me.” Arthur was never one to talk much but here he was ranting to the stupid American that he was going to have to deal with. 

Alfred watched as Arthur’s lips moved with words but he was listening to what the shoulder length blonde haired Frenchman was complaining to one of the designers about, it was something about not enough ‘bling’. The American’s attention was brought back to Arthur when he started yelling. 

“PISS OFF FRANCIS.” Was the simple phrase, that was still so effective toward the picky Frenchman. Alfred snickered beside Arthur, who was wearing a shit eating grin. 

“I am just doing my job, Angleterre.” Francis said defending himself like he was hurt by the Englishman's words. 

“Doesn’t mean you can bother the rest of us, you frog.” Arthur snapped, still trying to breathe against the constraints, leaning his head back against the back of the chair in an attempt to catch his breath. 

“Ah Alfred, I see you have met Arthur.” Francis’s face lit up. 

“I sure did!” Alfred exclaimed “But he is one weird dude, ya know.” 

“I am sitting right here you bloody wanker!” Arthur snapped and scowled, causing a shriek from Francis. 

“Mon ami, if you keep doing that you are going to get lines across your forehead!” Francis said, trying his best to save Arthur’s face from a permanent scowl. 

“PAWS OFF YOU BLOODY ARSE!” Arthur screeched, trying to flick Francis‘ hands away, and not doing too well. Alfred watched in amusement. 

“And what have they done to you?!” Francis continued to fuss about different things and noticed the Brit’s outfit. “Don’t they know that this is way too tight for someone who is not used to it?” 

Arthur’s face seemed to light up at that, if it had anything to do with getting the bloody awful thing off then he was totally in. 

“It looks good though.” Alfred said matter of factly. 

Francis shook his head, “The American is right.” 

“Please fucking kill me.” Arthur sighed. 

It was then that Alfred noticed something that he hadn’t before, he found that somehow Arthur and Francis seemed to be alarmingly close and briefly wondered if the two were in a relationship, that was until Arthur started yelling again and drawing Alfred from away his thoughts. 

“Francis I swear to the Queen of England that I hate you, but if you can do something about this then please do.” Arthur started. Alfred took note to ask about their relationship later, even though Arthur’s last words mostly summed it up.

Francis nodded and motioned for Arthur to follow him. “If you would just follow me, Angleterre.” 

Arthur tried for a second to get out of the chair. “If you would kindly help Alfred?” Arthur asked. Alfred complied, helping the smaller out of the chair like he did before and making sure the Brit could stand properly before letting him walk toward Francis, casually swinging his hips to make walking in the outfit more comfortable. 

The room that they were conversing in had mostly been cleared out with the exception of a few people moving out to go to the main stage where most of the actors‘ clothing was being approved by the main crew while makeup was being tested by the cameras. Alfred was guessing that whichever person was in charge of Arthur had forgotten or gotten sidetracked and went to do something else. 

There were a few groans when Francis started tugging on the corset to get it to a looser setting, which made Alfred a little bothered. Alfred couldn’t really explain it but it felt that he and Arthur had known each other for a while, even though they probably had only met a few times at a party or something that didn’t really count. He supposed that it could have been because they would have to work together for a while which is why they had gotten along so well this time.

A particularly loud scream broke him from his thoughts and he figured that he should stop going off into his dream world and spacing out. 

“Alfred, I must ask for your help if you can?” Francis called from a separate dressing room that was located just off the large room that Alfred had met Arthur. 

“Yeah sure.” Alfred agreed and made his way to the same room that Arthur and Francis were in. 

“What did ya need help with dude?” Alfred asked, his eyes darting to Arthur who was leaned over the vanity and with Francis messing around with the contraption that made up the back of the piece. 

“I just had an important call and I need you to finish this.” Francis said, placing his phone back into his fluffy jacket that was probably pretty expensive. 

“Okay dude, but you should know that I have no idea what I am doing.” Alfred said looking over the Brit’s back. 

“Just continue to loosen the strings right here and then redo it but not as tight, it is like tightening some shoes or figure skates, non?” 

“Uh, sure.” 

“As long as you don’t kill me then you can help.” Arthur said speaking up. 

“No promises, Artie.” 

“Merci Alfred, and ta ta Angleterre.” Francis said, leaving the room. 

“Bastard.” Arthur called out after the long haired blonde, enticing a distance giggle from the man. 

“I suppose this is not what I expected to be doing after just meeting you but what the hell.” Alfred said casually, pulling some random strings.

“You don’t say.” Arthur contradicted, “Just fix it please.” 

“Okay, Artie.” 

  
“I told you my name is Arthur you wanker, and stop acting like you know me.” 

“Just trying to make conversation. Speaking of that, just curious, what is your relationship with that guy anyway?” Alfred asked, starting to undo what the previous person started with the strings. 

“Francis? If you think I am dating the frog then you are definitely mistaken.” Arthur tried to laugh but it was quite painful. 

“Oh, you guys just seem to know each other well.” Alfred said, undoing two strings at a time until he was at the top of the corset and allowing it to fall off in one big piece. 

“You don’t know him well?” Arthur asked, “He seemed to know you well enough.” 

“I met him through my brother.” 

“The hockey player?” Arthur asked,curious as he slid the thing off of him so he could breath for a few minutes before it would have to be put back on before they went out to set to get final costume arrangements checked for cameras. 

“That’s my bro.” Alfred confirmed, watching Arthur move around to grab a plain white shirt to cover up even though the corset was about to be put back on. 

“He doesn’t seem like the type of person to know Francis of all people.” Arthur thought mostly to himself but he hadn’t seen the Canadian brother of Alfred’s in a while. They had been friends through Francis for some time, but that was only ever when Arthur and Francis would run into the kid at a premiere because of Alfred or a tournament of Matthew's that Francis insisted that Arthur attend with him. 

“Nah not really, but they go way back.” Alfred said, his eyes scanning over Arthur’s torso until he noticed something strange when he wasn’t covered by the black piece. 

“Do they?” Arthur said, hoping that Alfred didn’t see anything, he supposed that the makeup department forgot to cover up some of what he was worried about. 

Oh but Alfred definitely saw through the mirror that reflected the short haired blondes back, but didn’t say anything. The British man's torso was covered in bruises, new and old, some scratches that were red and others were scar like. Arthur seemed insecure about it and quickly covered up again dreading having to put the other thing back on because needless to say it was painful to have something so tight wrapping around all of the wounds. 

Once Alfred and Arthur got a fifteen minute roll call notice from the main set, they decided that they should attempt to put the corset back on the Brit. Arthur would rather run all the way home in nothing by a pair of boxers, except he sometimes considered his home to be across the ocean and all he was wearing now was a pair of women’s short shorts and questionable fishnet tights and garter belts. The scene that they were testing for was the scene after the beloved party scene where instead of so many people it was just Alfred and Arthur and the first real up close screen time for the two characters. 

Everything would have been fine except for the painful corset that was sadly necessary. Arthur just hoped that there was nobody listening into the room that Alfred and himself were in because they would probably get the wrong idea. The room was being filled with a mixture of Arthur trying to breath and Alfred muttering apologies and trying not to hurt Arthur who just tried to refrain from screaming when the strong American started pulling the strings together and hooking it behind the Brit before finishing at the end tying it in a neat bow at the end just above Arthur’s ass. 

Arthur could only envy Alfred’s wardrobe. It looked classy and comfortable and it looked like something he might wear to a Christmas dinner with his family, it was a fancy 1900’s dress suit that perfectly fit the role and the person wearing it. 

Alfred watched as Arthur threw a robe over the outfit and not bothering to tie it up as he walked into the hallway when they got the five minute call. Arthur quickly stopped in front of the makeup department.

“Wait here, or go on ahead. I don’t care.” Arthur said, slipping in the room and closing the door behind him. Alfred just leaned against the door and waited for the Englishman to finish up and join him again. 

Inside the room Arthur walked over to the first person he saw and asked for the lead artist and was quickly directed to her work space. Upon seeing Arthur, the lady who was in charge of Arthur and Alfred and a few others looks on the screen knew exactly what Arthur was there for. The robe didn’t cover what it needed to. The artist, Anri, the girl’s name was, started working on some patches that were starting to wash away with a small sad frown on her face and fixing them before sending Arthur away with a few painkillers. 

When Arthur opened the door again he looked as he had before probably with a bit of a touch up of a few things. Arthur turned around at the sound of his name being called from behind him. 

“Good Luck Arthur!” The Belgian girl called and waved a bit when she saw Alfred standing next to Alfred as they made their way down the hall. 

Arthur somehow always walked with a strange confidence that even Alfred couldn’t his eyes off of and made him find a weird possessiveness when Arthur got catcalls just from walking down the hall. Arthur just flipped them off not caring if he got yelled at for it and continued down the hall in a fast paced motion. Alfred couldn’t blame the people they passed in the hall for staring because that would make him a hypocrite. 

Alfred held the door for Arthur as they made their way to the studio they were actually filming in, Studio thirteen. Arthur thanked the man and made his way over to the people in charge and earned himself a few more cat calls before almost going ballistic on them. 

Never had Arthur ever thought that he would be in this situation in his entire career, he was pretty sure that his family might think that he is going rogue. 

At least it would be over soon. 

Until tomorrow that is. 

Toward the end of the rehearsal, some things took a strange turn. First the directors called Alfred up for a quick talk, something about getting his brother Matthew, the hockey player, who had no interest in this world, to contact the studio because they wanted to offer him a part if he could do it. Alfred thought it might be because they were twins, but then realised that that script didn’t even called for two look alike characters. 

As for Arthur, things got bad when his manager showed up, probably to discuss Arthur’s profit from the film which would mean more money for him, seeing as he was Arthur’s manager. But the bloke did his job and that was the only reason he kept the arse. Arthur, who was convinced that the majority of the day was done was about the sneak off stage when the directors asked for one more camera check in front of a different setting and angle. Arthur was exhausted a sore from wearing the bloody corset, hell even the usually smiling and handsome American actor looked ready to kill the asshole in charge, they were being kept longer than they were suppose to and all everybody wanted to do was past out in their million dollar homes, he knew for sure that that was what he wanted to do. 

After an agonizing half hour of everything else, they were finally done and prepared to leave the Godforsaken establishment. Alfred had already had everything taken off and had exchanged his costume for his relatively normal street clothes, even though they were still probably expensive except for the ragged converse all stars that were dressing his feet. After walking out of the closet or whatever the place where they stored the fabric and finished outfits was called, he was grabbed from the hall by a surprisingly strong but pale arm that dragged him into a side dressing room, that was actually the same one he and Arthur were in earlier. 

Speaking of Arthur the man was standing in front of the American panting trying his best not to look like he just had a mental breakdown. 

“What’s up, dude?” Alfred asked the other. 

“I need your help again, because that stupid bloody assistant that is suppose to be helping me decided to run off again and I haven't seen Francis since earlier and I am sure as hell not wearing this ratchet thing home.” Arthur ranted, 

“No prob, dude.” Alfred gently led Arthur to the vanity from earlier and motioned for him to put his hands on it to keep himself standing. 

“I thought you’d be wearing something a little more…. expensive than Converse.” Arthur commented, because after all he was already looking down at the floor and just so happened to notice Alfred‘s choice in shoes. 

“Nah, I'm not into all that fancy stuff, something simple is more than enough, It’s not like I don’t own nice things, I just don’t prefer it.” Alfred reasoned, untying the pesky garment. 

“I thought most young people liked to show off that kind of stuff?” Arthur asked. 

“You make it sound like you're so much older than me, I am going to have to start calling you an old man.” Alfred laughed, Arthur tried not to smile, but Alfred’s was just contagious, and the worst part was that if Alfred looked up, then he could probably see it in the mirror. 

Arthur quickly composed himself, “Don’t you dare.” 

“No promises.” 

“How old are you anyway?” Arthur asked looking into the mirror to see if he could see the American behind him as he was hard at work making sure Arthur could breathe normally again. 

“It’s not nice to ask a lady's age!” Alfred laughed, pretending to be appalled. Arthur rolled his eyes at Alfred, who then decided to answer. “Twenty-one, you?” 

“Twenty-three.” Arthur answered. 

“See I knew you weren’t an old man!” Alfred exclaimed, almost finished with the ties on the back. 

Arthur just held back a smile and proceeded to roll his eyes, he finally felt as if he could breathe normally, but he felt that he still couldn’t breathe right, maybe it was because his manager was in the same building as him.

Alfred didn’t say anything as he slid the old styled costume off Arthur’s torso, he figured it probably wasn’t appropriate for him to do, but he did it anyway not thinking anything of it. Arthur strangely seemed to lean back a bit at Alfred’s large hand on his rounded shoulders. But the moment was quickly discarded when there was a knock on the door and the frightening sound of his manager’s booming voice on the other side. The blonde Brit was thankful that the American had some sense to lock the door when he was pulled into the room. 

“Arthur, are you done in there?” Was all that was heard from the other side. Alfred seemed confused as the other blonde in the room scrambled around for his normal dress clothes, and anxiously answered his manager back. 

“Uh, yes almost, um, one second.” Alfred was concerned about how badly Arthur’s voice trembled, and low-key wondered if the bruises on the man's torso had anything to do with it. Alfred was quietly directed by Arthur to be quiet. 

“Leave a few minutes after I get out of the room.” Arthur whispered. Alfred nodded and wondered why. “And turn around really quickly would you?” Alfred complied and heard the soft rustle of clothes as Arthur took off everything else and slipped more comfortable clothes on. 

“Thank you.” Arthur whispered to Alfred before opening the door and meeting the other man with a shaky sigh. Alfred felt like he was trying to hide something important and if it was the last thing he did then he would find out what was bothering the British man. 


	3. "You don't care if it it wrong of if it is right..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They would be lying if they said that people hadn’t taken notice, some asked questions and others didn’t, most questions, however, were denied. 
> 
> But there was one question that Alfred himself needed to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Roxanne by the Police. Again, I suck at titles and this one doesn't really apply unless it is because of the manager, but mostly because of the movie that I was inspired by the first time I wrote this. 
> 
> I just wanted to say that some of the notes on the last version of this were sometimes very stupid and I acknowledge that, but some of it was good advice lol.

**Chapter Three: The Rehearsal**

Everyday since finally talking to Arthur, Alfred barely left his side, he had a reason but Arthur didn’t know that reason. He didn’t need to know the reason. Arthur, however, liked the attention, it wasn’t the typical attention he usually had though, it was like having a friend that  _ wasn’t  _ Francis. 

They would be lying if they said that people hadn’t taken notice, some asked questions and others didn’t, most questions, however, were denied. 

But there was one question that Alfred himself needed to ask. 

It was during the second week of being on set and the second day they actually started rehearsing that Alfred had finally had enough. Alfred was used to seeing Arthur more frequently and speaking to him before he went in to have hair and makeup done and that’s when he had the time to notice that no matter what Arthur tried to do he couldn’t hide the recurring bruises and red marks everywhere or when Alfred would put his arm around the British man’s shoulder how he would wince in pain but play it off as normal. Either way, Alfred automatically took his arm back to his side. Alfred also noticed the dirty looks that Arthur’s manager gave him when he would put an arm around him or casually help him with wardrobe or even talk or smile at him. 

It was during some time in the morning when Anri was putting the required camera makeup on his face and neck when he finally asked.    
  
“I hate to be the dude asking this, but is Arthur okay?” Alfred started as the short haired Belgian put liquid concealer on his face. 

“What do you mean?” The girl asked leaning back and stopping her work to look at Alfred. 

“I mean…” Alfred quickly made sure nobody was listening in because the last thing Alfred wanted was to expose whatever was happening to the man. “I see him everyday and the amount of pain he’s in and all of the scratches and bruises are concerning.” 

Anri’s eyes seemed to go sympathetic and brought her hand down to her side, she seemed to contemplate her next words carefully. Then let her mouth gap like a fish, unable to talk.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Alfred suggested, although still thinking to himself that it would still be nice to know. 

Alfred had always viewed himself as a hero, which is why he wanted to be an actor so he could actually be a hero, for some reason he thought he might actually get the chance to be one if he knew the reasons. 

Anri thought for a moment, she looked down at her feet, “I can’t tell you.” 

After thanking the young artist and leaving to get his other costume clothing before joining everyone for rehearsal, the American then took a detour straight towards Arthur’s main dressing room, he just needed to know that the Brit was okay. 

Arthur was pissed, and staring at a certain American in front of him who had just decided to barge in without knocking while Arthur was currently throwing his belongings around the room to let off some steam. Alfred just seemed relieved for some reason, and automatically smiled. Which helped the Brit immensely. Not that he would admit it.

Luckily today was just rehearsing and nothing special. These types of days consisted of the cast learning the music and singing the soundtrack, and listening to Antonio, who was a lead in choreography. Everybody had to learn two main dances in the first part and others had to learn another dance that was placed toward the end more. The last one consisted mostly of the crew and then some. There was some talk that there would be an actual orchestra and some of it would be filmed in the form of a musical, which was where Antonio and Roderich were important. 

Currently the lively Spaniard was instructing who would be dancing with who, for the sake of the plot and based on characters whether they were major or minor and who would be beneficial with one another. 

Arthur and Alfred were sat on the side lines as the first half of the dancing was being conducted, the pre-recorded song blasted in the background as the brown haired man started doing a few examples and making sure that the people he was leading were in sync and keeping up with each other and the music. Antonio then went on to talk about how their hands would be involved with the costumes and how, for the current moment, they should keep them up and tense. 

As soon as this part was almost completed it would stop abruptly in the middle and Arthur would come into scene, with the already choreographed part that he and Antonio worked on the night before. Arthur quickly joined and was put into place in between the rest of the dancers, there were a select few that would play the playboy’s that went to this club to have a fun time. Arthur felt frightened when he realised that these people would have to lift him up and do it all without dropping him but they seemed like they could do it. Either way, Arthur did it flawlessly and Alfred was impressed and slightly concerned for what he might have to do. 

Alfred soon learned that his part would not be as bad as he thought, after a brief dance number with Francis, Arthur was sent back to the sidelines and waited as Antonio instructed the rest of the dancing and effortlessly joined in himself. For the next part of the complicated party dance, the cast grabbed their respective partners that Antonio paired them up with. This included Arthur and Alfred and the center of attention. Alfred tried to focus on the shorter man in front of him and not anything else about him or the very noticeable camera high above the stage that was recording their rehearsal for the Behind the Scenes that was most likely going to happen. 

For this example, Antonio grabbed Lovino from the middle and started showing how this part was going to play out, it was a simple waltz-like dancing with a twist that was simple but it required the counterpart of the taller dancer to be flexible which wasn’t too bad, but Alfred soon understood why Antonio paired them up this way, even though his part with Arthur was unavoidable. 

“Where did you learn to do this?” Alfred asked, it was the first time that he had spoken to Arthur that morning, after figuring out that Arthur was in trouble somehow. 

Arthur scoffed and completed the next tip back, as Alfred held tightly to his back so he couldn’t tip over. 

“Before acting…” Arthur did the second dip. “I was in a…..” and the next one, it was a relatively easy move but it was difficult to speak after bending his back in such a way, but he guessed he would have to learn since it was written into the movie. “Band. We were told we had to learn to dance, that’s how I learned.” Arthur explained, and sighed as he remembered that they were done with dipping and they were moving onto normally moving around in a circle. “Also Antonio is a friend, I guess you could say.” 

“Didn’t think that a band would make you do this kinda dancing?” Alfred asked, a little puzzled. The next thing he heard from Antonio was that they were going to do lifts, and carefully showed by lifting the usually angry Italian in the air and holding his hips to keep him from falling. The said Italian usually wouldn’t let Antonio, or anybody for that matter, go near him, but Alfred figured that he was doing it for the sake of the rest of the group and for the Spaniard’s amusement. It wasn’t much of a secret that the Italian and Antonio had a long standing relationship which made them perfect as an example and perfect for the roles they were cast. 

As soon as the main crew started practicing the lifts then Alfred started up the conversation again. “Do ya still want to explain why you would tango dance for a band?” Alfred asked, lifting the other into the air and watching as he rolled his eyes as he was put back on the ground. 

“It’s a bit of a ridiculous story actually.” Arthur said, not meeting Alfred’s eyes and turning to then be lifted into the air again. 

“Mind telling? I do love ridiculous stories seeing as we have…” Alfred lifted Arthur once more, as Arthur’s eyes seemed to light up as he looked at Alfred again. “A lot of time.” 

“Fine, I was in charge of finding myself and the others dance lessons, and being the bloody idiot, like yourself, that I was at the time, I thought there was only one form of dancing and booked everyone salsa lessons with Antonio who was just as confused as I was.” Arthur said, looking over to Antonio who was showing Ludwig a way he could lift Feliciano without the giggly Italian being tickled. 

Alfred just laughed at what he just heard and waited for Antonio to come back and show the people on stage what to do next. The next thing, however, was putting everything they just learned together without falling or dropping somebody, which had happened twice already, but nobody was hurt, not too badly at least. 

About an hour of working on the first three parts of the first dance, there were a handful of dancers who broke off from one another, though some stayed in their same arrangements. This time Antonio was part of the dance and was partnered with Lovino. The ones that didn’t participate in this part were told to take a few minutes, though most just stayed and watched or went to get water while they waited. 

Arthur and Alfred were part of those that stayed to watch, the group started practicing a day before the rest of the groups like Arthur had, so he saw some of what they were up to the day before. The music they had didn’t have any lyrics yet and was a shrilling violin and drums that created a dark and impressive tango feeling. Antonio was in the lead of it all and Lovino was the second in charge of dancing. He was currently doing the part with the green eyed man until the rest of the others that were going to be doing it with them started to join, Alfred’s job was to walk around the stage and hum the lyrics that weren’t put to music yet, while Francis would translate some of the French that was placed into the music. Arthur was fascinated by the process and didn’t even notice that the end wasn’t too far, somehow another wave of people and their partners did the background of the tango. The music then became slow and sinister before crescendoing, the rest of the dancers started back up with Antonio and Lovino in the front and center telling the story, until the music ended with a bang. 

The people on the sidelines started clapping once the rest were finished and out of air. The time was around two in the afternoon now and most were exhausted or ready to get the last one over and done with.

The third dance was a complicated thing to put together and left the people who would normally have talked or helped each other stay confined to their parts. Arthur recalled that this was a mess, for the characters and with the amount of things going on. Somehow the exhausted dancers managed to complete the first part of it with ease. Arthur’s part was not long after that and it required him to be held up by a group of people again, which he was quickly getting used to, luckily most of the dancing required walking and arm movements. Though, that was easy enough. 

By the time they had run through the whole thing it was beginning to get dark outside and nobody could get the instrumentals out of their heads. Except for Alfred, who was automatically put back onto a different train of thought. During their practice Alfred made sure to keep a light but sturdy grip on Arthur so he wouldn’t hurt him because there had been some times that Antonio would come and critique Arthur when Alfred wasn’t involved and it was obvious that when the Spaniard touched the Brit’s shoulders that he winced in pain but tried to hide it and he did it well, but it wasn’t the choreographer’s fault for not knowing something that wasn’t see-able to begin with. 

Now though Alfred looked out into the crowd of people in the auditorium, it was usually just the director or makeup artist who would fix something or take note of other things, for the most part the main person always in the studio was was the cameraman that was in charge of making the behind the scenes and the bloopers when the time came to finally start the acting parts. One person he didn’t want to see in the crowd was Arthur’s manager, the man gave off a strange and downright unpleasant aurora and he couldn’t figure out why, which automatically put the American in a bad mood until he did have an idea. 

They started to redo the waltz dance scene where Arthur was in charge of some pretty risque moves that at one point landed him on the floor and trailing back up Alfred’s body in a snake-like motion, and when Alfred glanced into the crowd and caught the man's eye and tried his best not to smirk and be cocky about it all. He didn’t want to get on the man’s bad side for Arthur's sake, which is when he got his good idea. However, if the hero could prevent some pain that would surely come to him then that’s what he would do. 

“Hey Artie?” Alfred asked as he seated himself in the same dressing room as the Englishman. 

“Hm?” He questioned, obviously trying to avoid going out into the hall and running into the manager. 

“Whatcha doing tonight?” Alfred wondered, leaning forward in his chair, and looking at the other in the dimly lit room. 

“Are you trying to ask me on a date, Jones?” Arthur asked, he looked up from the script that he was looking through to avoid leaving the dressing room. 

“No?” Alfred started a search for words in that moment and settled on, “I was thinking we could have a sleepover.” 

“A sleepover?” Arthur’s abnormally large eyebrows shot up in question and surprise, “Like ten year old girls?” 

“Sure! We can memorise the script and watch movies with Francis in them.” Alfred suggested. 

Arthur could never turn down a Francis movie marathon. Nothing was funnier than getting a bit tipsy and roasting the Frenchman for an embarrassing sex scene or an overally cheesy line or bad acting that happened occasionally. For the most part some of the man’s movies weren’t too bad, but if you watch them with someone else then you might want to be drunk. 

“That sounds ideal.” Arthur agreed. Before his gaze fell again, “But we are going to have to sneak out of this place.” 

“Ooooh, hope the paparazzi don’t see!” Alfred jumped up and gathered his things before turning back to the other blonde. “Who’s car?’ 

Arthur thought for a moment. ”Mine, and you can get yours tomorrow since we’ll be back here anyway.” Arthur shrugged and finally put his things into his man satchel. 

“Okay, and who’s gonna drive?” Alfred asked.

“You, because I haven’t a clue where your house is.” Arthur stood up and joined Alfred by the door and shutting off the light leaving the two in the dark, before Alfred slowly opened the door and motioned for Arthur to follow him out while looking around to make sure that nobody saw them, except for one person who was in the parking lot, it was Anri and she just gave a delighted smile seeing the two and went to her car. 

Arthur led Alfred to the expensive car that the younger was quite excited to drive, it wasn’t what Alfred expected Arthur to drive but nonetheless it was expensive and impressive, not like his but still nice. It was a black Bugatti Chiron that was obviously taken care of and Arthur intended to keep it that way. 

Arthur threw Alfred the keys specifically stating quite harshly “Don’t wreck it.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Alfred said, admiring it before opening the door and sliding in next to Arthur and starting it up. “I didn’t take you for a car guy, Artie.” Alfred had the biggest grin knowing this new fact. 

“How many times must I tell you that my name is Arthur, and no I don’t collect these things I just know a nice vehicle when I see one.” Arthur said, crossing his arms as he watched the taller adjust the seat. 

“I would hate to see your garage.” Arthur mumbled, “And you better put that back when you’re done.” 

“No prob, Bob.” Alfred said cruising out of the parking lot faster than he should have been. 

“First you called me Artie and now I am Bob? Do you have the slightest clue as to what my bloody name is?” Arthur asked, turning toward the American in his seat with the seat belt rubbing against his neck. 

Alfred laughed and continued to cruise down the freeway to get back to his large house that wouldn’t be as lonely tonight. 


	4. “Hold me closer, tiny dancer, count the headlights on the highway…”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t step on my feet! Try it again.” Arthur scolded looking down at Alfred’s socked feet then back up at the American’s blue eyes that were being covered by the glasses, though he was still handsome nonetheless, somehow the accessory made him look older, but not by too much. 
> 
> “Fine, fine, try it again.” Alfred was frustrated at the Brit who was ordering him around like normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title From Tiny Dancer By Elton John.

**Chapter Four: Practise**

Alfred somehow thankfully got Arthur’s Bugatti home in one piece alongside Arthur screaming and telling him to slow down while grasping on to the seat he was sitting on. The British man thought it was a miracle that he was even still alive with Alfred’s reckless driving and the dumb excuse he gave every time Arthur told him to slow down. 

“A car like this deserves to go fast.” Alfred had said, or something like that. Frankly, Arthur didn’t care as long as they didn’t crash or get pulled over. Plus this was LA, there were vehicles even at this time of the evening, and somehow Alfred managed to miss every single one of them. 

Now at least they were at Alfred’s castle, Arthur had to admit that it was large, especially for one person, unless he wasn’t alone? Arthur had to wonder if he was in a relationship, the guy was attractive and wealthy. How could he not be? 

“Isn’t this a bit much for one person?” Arthur asked, stepping out of his shoes in the Mudroom entryway. 

“That’s what I said!” Alfred exclaimed, turning around to Arthur after turning on a light. “You must have something like it though, right?” 

Arthur nodded his head as Alfred slipped out of his own shoes and left them in the doorway for others to trip over. 

“That’s certainly not a good place to keep those, which I am sure you are aware of.” Arthur scolded moving the converse to sit next to his. 

“What’s the problem? The maid will probably just put them away like she always does.” Alfred explained plopping down on his couch. 

“I feel so bad for your maid.” Arthur finished, sitting himself down next to Alfred who was fiddling with the TV remote and clicking on the Netflix. 

Alfred only smiled at Arthur’s complaint before throwing the remote toward the Brit and standing up before the blonde, “Find some of Francis‘ movies and I’ll go make us food. What do ya like?” 

“Nothing that has to do with fast food.” Arthur stated firmly, turning his body on the couch to look at the American who was standing with the fridge door wide open. “Do you have tea?” Arthur wondered. 

“Maybe, Mattie likes the stuff, but it might taste like maple syrup.” Alfred grinned, closing the door to the fridge and going to the cabinets. 

A few moments later, the two blondes were sat on the couch eating popcorn and laughing at a particularly awful line that Francis had said. Arthur has tears running down his face as Alfred played the clip back over and over. Alfred was rolling on the white carpeted floor, which was definitely  not his first choice of carpet. 

“It’s SO bad!” Alfred wheezed. 

“I know!” Arthur agreed, making sure that Alfred played it over at least four more times before he was satisfied and ready to continue watching one of Francis’ first movies. 

After a marathon of about three different movies with the blonde Frenchman in them and a few shots of  bleach liquor that Alfred had in his cupboard, Alfred and Arthur busted out their movie scripts and started reading from them. 

“It’s like… you know how you have to…. I don’t fucking know.” Arthur mumbled, looking through the script he knew it wasn’t even close to what the actual line was but he honestly didn't care, Alfred just laughed and read the next part of his line. 

Arthur sat on the couch now with Alfred’s arm behind him and listening to the American debate about something that he noticed while they were rehearsing that day, Arthur casually offered tips or suggestions to the American. 

“But here's the thing, there are some people who are really good at what they do and the others just blow it off ya know.” Alfred said and earned a nod from Arthur.

“I’d say they just like to put us in pain.” Arthur decided, looking up at the American, who was getting up, Arthur figured that Alfred was talking about the designers that were in charge for this film. 

“Probably, but I think it goes for a lot of people.” Alfred concluded. They were now walking down Alfred’s long hallway, Arthur wasn’t too sure why but he figured he would rather follow Alfred than be left alone in the other’s house, plus they were talking about something random. It just so happened that after a few shots to forget about the Francis movies, they had a strangely serious conversation about different types of tea and Alfred decided to go on a rant about shitty coworkers. Arthur didn’t blame him, and he never said it to their faces, like some others always did. Arthur supposed it was one of the reasons that he enjoyed Alfred’s company so much.

Arthur found that he was starting to like the American idiot, but not too much, he couldn’t figure out what was so intriguing about him. It was also the fact that the American was so gentle, so it was something oddly nice that the Englishman was not used to.

Alfred was walking toward his bedroom and Arthur thought he should turn around but Alfred was still talking about something that Arthur figured to be superheroes from comic books. Arthur had noticed that the man liked to talk, but Arthur usually preferred to listen so it was a fine set up. 

“I am just going to fix this, one sec.” Alfred said closing the on-suite door halfway and leaving Arthur to sit on the very large king sized bed that Alfred owned. The room itself was large and looked like it should be in a home decor magazine, the blonde just figured that it was the house keepers that kept it so tidy. 

A minute later Alfred was out of the bathroom and didn’t even have to open the door because he didn’t close it all the way to begin with, which Arthur had thought was strange until figuring out what the other was doing. Arthur’s eyebrows raised again when the American walked out of the bathroom shutting the light off in the process, this time Alfred had a pair of thin rimmed rectangular glasses dressing his face. 

“Charming.” Arthur accidentally whispered, and hoped that Alfred hadn’t heard what he said. 

Luckily he hadn’t and turned back to the living room, the conversation that the two ended up having was informational at the very least, and had somehow changed from superheroes to Alfred’s appearance. Minutes later they were sitting in the living room again reading through the next part until the dance part came up. Arthur would have happily stayed on the couch and watched Alfred attempt to complete the dance himself, but somehow he was dragged into it as well. 

“Don’t step on my feet! Try it again.” Arthur scolded looking down at Alfred’s socked feet then back up at the American’s blue eyes that were being covered by the glasses, though he was still handsome nonetheless, somehow the accessory made him look older, but not by too much. 

“Fine, fine, try it again.” Alfred was frustrated at the Brit who was ordering him around like normal. 

“And DON’T drop me” Arthur waited for the lift to say this part loudly enough to hear over the music that Alfred had blasted out of the speakers. 

The two went on to continue what they learned earlier from Antonio and rehearse lines over and over because it was the normal thing to do on a Wednesday night with a co-star even when you had to go back in the morning and do it all again. 

Arthur now had his dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and was correcting Alfred’s footing by stepping on his feet and holding onto the taller American, who just complained that it hurt. 

“Alfred, if you keep complaining we are never going to be able to complete this, so I advise that you cooperate.” Arthur stressed with his pale arms on his hips. 

Alfred grinned at the older like a madman, mostly because he found it cute when the other acted all fed up with him. 

“From the top Alfred.” Arthur instructed. 

“K, dude!” 

They started with the first dance that they would be in together, the one where Arthur had to drop himself backwards while Alfred hands were dangerously close to his ass. Either way, they completed it and Alfred managed to get through half of the steps without stepping on Arthur’s now bare feet. Alfred had moved the coffee table and couch and pushed up the rug so they could practise on the hardwood. It made Arthur uneasy because he didn’t want to be dropped but Alfred seemed keen on not dropping the other and kept a light but strong hand on Arthur while doing the lifts. 

“Now we move this way.” Arthur guided Alfred like Alfred was supposed to guide Arthur. 

“Are you gonna say numbers with that?” Alfred asked, walking behind the smaller, who was just confused at the question asked. 

“Numbers?” 

“Yeah like 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.” Alfred tried, “Because people do that, right?” 

“But we are not because that is ridiculous.” Arthur decided, and Alfred laughed. 

“What about the snake thingy?” Alfred asked as they neared that part in the song even though they were working on something else. 

“Should I?” Arthur tilted his head. 

“Whatever you want Artie.” Alfred smiled and went along with whatever else Arthur was going to try. 

“I’ll do it but only because the dance calls for it.” Arthur crossed his arms and waited for Alfred to 

“Face it you like the part don’t ya?” The tall American now wearing glasses asked.

“No, I most certainly do not.” Arthur chided. 

They started from the top again and when it got to the snake part that Alfred was asking about, Arthur complied and did it, it was done twice throughout the entire thing, but Alfred’s eyes were focused on something else. The light that Alfred had put on was a standing lamp that stood in the corner of the room by the window that overlooked the city of LA below and it made seeing outside difficult but seeing inside was as clear as day, it was like bright stage lights, the people on stage can’t see the audience that well but the people in the audience could see the people on stage. What had caught Alfred’s eye was a quick flash and a few bushes rustling against the window, the actor’s mind automatically went to one thing, the paparazzi. 

It was a normal everyday thing for someone like Alfred and Arthur to be followed around by them and it wouldn’t be the first time that they had showed up at Alfred’s house. Arthur didn’t seem to notice as he slid down the length of Alfred‘s body and stayed down for a second before springing back up but before he could, there was another flash and Alfred pushed Arthur toward the floor with himself landing on top of the Brit. 

“What the bloody hell was that for?” Arthur sneered in question and anger. He wouldn’t tell Alfred, but it kind of hurt. 

“Shhh! Quiet, we are being watched.” Arthur knew exactly what that met as Alfred said it and reached up and clicked off the light switch on the wall right over where Arthur and Alfred landed on the floor. 

“Shit.” Arthur cursed and hoped that they didn’t see too much. It was hard enough to hide from the bastards as it is without them showing up at Alfred’s home.

“They’ll probably leave once they think we stopped doing interesting stuff.” 

“Interesting stuff? Really Alfred, now we are going to be swamped with questions from the press and the producers are going to be bloody angry.” Arthur whisper-yelled. 

“I know! But if they can hear us it is going to be worse so shut your mouth.” Alfred looked down at Arthur who he was still lying on top of. 

“Look who’s talking! You insufferable git!” Arthur in that moment tried to cross his arms over his chest out of habit but was blocked by Alfred’s surprisingly firm chest. For the next few minutes the two sat in the dark and hoped that Alfred couldn’t see the red that was surely heating his face. The last time he was laid on like this he was drunk and it was Francis who was trying to do some random shit that he probably learned from Youtube. 

It was a good thirty minutes before either one of them thought about moving again, their hiding place was just behind the moved couch, but it was possible that they were still there because the assholes were persistent, and that was for sure. 

When Alfred decided that the coast was clear, he got off Arthur and offered the other his hand and helped him up.

“That was unpleasant.” Arthur commented straightening his clothes out as Alfred reached around the walls to find the light switch. 

“I thought it was up close and personal.” Alfred grinned when he found the switch. Arthur rolled his eyes and looked to the tv that apparently they had left on while they had moved on to practising. 

“Oh, this part.” Was all he commented when he saw Francis on the screen.

Alfred broke into laughter when he saw it too, it was one of those horrible sex scenes that didn’t even look or sound real, which is what made it awkward and bad. Alfred and Arthur opted for making another bowl of popcorn and getting more booze before sitting down for another viewing of Francis’ worst movies. 

That is how they fell asleep as well. Alfred had at some point put his arm on the back of the couch while watching the movie and when he fell asleep his arm slid behind the smaller actor who woke up with his head in the crook of Alfred's neck with the American breathing in his ear. It was surprisingly warm considering they hadn’t even bothered to get a blanket besides the one that Alfred already had lying on the couch because of how many times that he probably fell asleep on the smaller couch compared to a large lonely bed. Arthur did it, because nothing was more cold than a large bed. Francis would always complain how it was bad for him but he never cared too much. 

Arthur was fully awake when the familiar ringtone of a phone sounded through the room. 

“What do you want,Francis?” Arthur snapped when he answered the phone and leaned back into his all American pillow. 

“Do you not realise the time, Mon ami?” Francis' usually aggravating voice asked through the phone. 

“No,what time is it?” Arthur asked, his accent heavy with sleep. 

“Twelve in the afternoon, Angleterre and you were not home when I went to look.” Francis seemed suspicious but almost acted like he knew why. 

“Oh.” Arthur was silent for a minute and wondered for a moment just how Alfred hadn’t been woken up yet. “I went out for….” Arthur looked around the room for a second, his eyes spotting his cup of tea from last night. “Tea. Yes, I didn’t realise the time and please tell the others that I will be there in a few minutes.” Arthur was fully prepared to hang up at that moment. 

“One more thing, Mon ami?” 

“What else could it possibly be Francis?” Arthur groaned. 

“Why did you answer the  Américain’s phone?” That was when Arthur really hung up the phone and found that he was indeed holding Alfred’s blue Iphone that was far too large for Arthur’s liking. 

When Arthur threw the phone onto the coffee table and leaned back he realised Alfred was probably waking up, there was sigh and Alfred casually snuggled himself onto Arthur, whose face went red. 

“Wake up, you bloody idiot.” Arthur complained while hitting Alfred on the arm that was holding him to the American’s torso. 

“Why?” Alfred mumbled into Arthur’s hair. 

“Because I am not a teddy bear.” 

“Okay.” Alfred said and continued to hold the Brit. 

“Or how about the fact that it’s twelve in the afternoon and we are five hours later than we should be, so I gave Francis a bloody terrible excuse.” 

“Oh, so that’s what that was about.” Alfred’s eyes were finally opened now and his glasses were trying to hang on his face. 

Arthur would never admit it but in that moment he thought that the American was gorgeous and just downright an idiot, but a very nice idiot. He wasn’t too aware when he reached up and fixed the American’s crooked glasses. 

Alfred found it adorable when Arthur smiled, which, unfortunately, wasn’t a lot. Alfred’s plan in getting to know the British man was succeeding but his next order of business was to distract and hopefully help avoid contact with Arthur’s manager to make the other smile more regularly because it really was nice to see. Such as the times when Alfred messed up badly while they were practicing the night before or when he was laughing hard enough to cry at Francis’ movies. For now he was just staring at the other, until Arthur rolled out of Alfred’s grip and landed on the floor. 

“Restroom?” He echoed in his prefect and heavily accented British tongue. 

“Down the hall opposite of my room.” Alfred directed and followed Arthur but making a detour to his room picking out different clothes and popping his in lenses and ditching his glasses before going back to his drawer to find something for Arthur who obviously didn’t have any clothes with him. Alfred figured that anything he owned would be far too big for Arthur but he doubted the Brit would want to wear the same thing a second day so he would just have to deal with the size. 

“Hey Artie?” Alfred asked, knocking on the bathroom door. 

“Yes?” 

“There's clothes here, I am gonna go find food.” 

Arthur quickly grabbed the over-sized clothes from Alfred and then locked the bathroom door again. Arthur was currently rummaging through the medicine cabinet for anything really, just until he could see Anri. Arthur changed into the clothing that Alfred gave him and just like they both thought, it was too big, but he would have to manage. The dress shirt went at least to his mid-thigh and the waist of the pants wouldn’t even stay on his hips. Screw tall people. This was not good for covering himself which is why he was having a mini panic attack. 

After deciding to put his other clothes back on and just change at the studio he folded the clothes again and made a pit stop at Alfred's room before joining the said man in the kitchen. Alfred had made Arthur tea and himself coffee and some cereal. 

“It’s gourmet.” Was Alfred’s excuse. 

“Right.” Arthur said and finished before he and Alfred had a fight about which one of them was going to drive. Arthur won and therefore had to adjust the seat because Alfred, of course, didn’t and they made their slow way toward the studio. The traffic was horrible and Alfred wouldn’t shut up. That was mostly what Arthur’s morning consisted of, along with Francis complaining about his tardiness. 

That day’s rehearsal had already started and there was twice the amount of people as there was last time roaming the halls and the stage, so by the time that Alfred and Arthur had gotten through camera make up and changed into the normal practise clothes which were simple sweatpants and a t-shirt unless you were Francis. 

Most people gave the two arriving blondes some odd looks or were begging to ask questions but were silenced by the director and Antonio who were intent on getting started. This rehearsal was mixing the music and dancing together, where the actors and actresses with singing roles would actually sing the lyrics that they should have memorised. Hence it was probably a good thing that Alfred and Arthur ended up practising while Arthur spent the night. 

They were at least able to keep up with the rest of the dancers on stage even though there were probably ten times more people here today then there was the day before. They were the extras that were placed in the background and there to lift Arthur at the times that the script called for. He was grateful at how Alfred would handle him and ask him if he was okay every now and then but it also made him unsettled, he was hoping that Alfred hadn’t figured anything of Arthur’s situation out. As he opened the door to Anri’s part of the studio she was casually sitting in the normal dressing chair and reading something on her phone. 

“Hi Artie!” She smiled.

Arthur rolled his eyes and made his way over to the girl. “Now he’s got you calling me ‘Artie’.” Arthur knew that Anri worked for quite a few people who were on set, Alfred just so happened to be one of them and she was one of the only ones that knew of his secret. 

“Awe, I thought you liked it.” She put on a fake frown. Arthur shook his head and sat down in the place Anri was when she motioned for him to. 

“No, just because he calls me that doesn’t mean I like it one bit.” Arthur scowled and crossed his arms. She spent the next few minutes doing her magic with various make up materials.

“But I saw you guys leaving together last night, I thought you had something going on.” She acted a bit confused. “Did you tell him yet?” 

“No, and I won’t tell him.” Arthur sided. 

“Why not? He obviously cares right? So what’s the problem?” Anri asked. 

“Because he doesn’t need to know. Are you done?” Arthur asked when the Belgian stopped doing anything with her supplies. He hated to snap at the girl but he didn’t feel like dealing with it anymore, everything was fine until he got in here and was reminded of the cruel reality he had to face when going back to his own house today, and to think it would probably be a hundred times worse because he didn’t even tell the bastard where he was going. 

Arthur ended up deciding to wear his work clothes home, he waved waving to Alfred when he saw the American walk to his own car. Before he got into the car Alfred stopped him. 

“You left your phone with me earlier, thought that it might be important for you to have it back.” Alfred started explaining, Arthur just nodded and took the device back before getting in the car, with his eyes following Alfred. 

Arthur leaned back against the seat and wondered if he could just grab some clothes from his house and go back to Alfred’s. The American had just been wonderful company, is what Arthur kept telling himself but he knew there was another reason, that reason being his manager that he just didn’t want to deal with. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to deal with it, but because he couldn’t anymore. Arthur made a choice and went straight home. 

At the same time, Alfred was doing his usual agenda, besides the fact that before he went home he stopped in the city for groceries, because as a bachelor he usually just got take out. The American was, needless to say, bored as hell so the next best thing to do was surf the internet, which is how he found some pictures that he didn’t want to see. 

Apparently the photographers had gotten what they wanted after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kinda hungry. 
> 
> Imma get some food and finish putting all of the chapters on here later.


	5. "We were just young and restless and bored..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That is how Alfred woke up on Lovino and Antonio’s floor with Francis lying on the pool table that was stored in the corner of the room, Gilbert was bending over the granite counter top in the kitchen, while Matthew was in the armchair. The owners of the house were lying butt naked on the couch, but to be fair they all lost some clothing that night. Alfred was using his shirt as a pillow and Francis was naked, which surprised no one at all, but his heels somehow found their way back on his feet sometime during the night. Gilbert’s pants took a detour to the sink and Matthew had lost his jacket and was probably the most decent and comfiest of all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Night Moves by Bob Seger. I don't know if you can tell but a lot of these songs are older, regardless, I'm basically just trying to paint a picture of the chapter using different lyrics and these seemed to work the best. 
> 
> This chapter still has one of the best conversations I think I have ever written between characters, it makes absolutely no sense but I still unashamedly laugh about it. It's the Pineapple part.

**Chapter Five: Clubbing**

Alfred scrolled frantically through the website where the pictures were that were linked to a matching article. 

“Fuck….” 

The pictures that Alfred was seeing were anything from Arthur and himself sneaking out of the studio, with a small bit of light that showed Arthur lightly holding onto the back of Alfred’s shirt as they made their way to Arthur’s Bugatti.

The next pictures of the page were taken at Alfred’s house. It must have been before he noticed the camera, there was a high definition picture of Alfred and Arthur looking at each other as the Brit explained the ‘sequence’. There were three more that went along with it, the next one under it was Arthur dipping his head back as the English man was lifted into the air, holding Alfred’s broad shoulders while Alfred held onto Arthur’s hips, that accidentally brushed his shirt up the slightest bit. 

The last two on the page before the article were after Alfred must have noticed and Arthur was on the floor about to come back up from his dropped low position. The last one was of Alfred lying on Arthur and the latter reaching to cross his arms and accidentally only touching Alfred’s biceps.

Automatically Alfred read the article which was just some bullshit and speculation. But at the bottom of the page was a number of screenshots and views that the page had, Alfred was concerned to see it read over a hundred thousand. The next thing that Alfred planned to do was call his manager, otherwise known as Kiku. 

Alfred had met Kiku after a cast party for an older movie he did and he and the Japanese man became good friends. Later Kiku offered to take up the job as Alfred’s manager which the American without hesitation agreed to after his old one quit. 

“Yo Kiku!” Alfred said not meaning to be so loud through the phone but was an accident, because it was how he usually was and because he was trying not to sound too worried. 

“What is it, Alfred-san?” Kiku asked politely through the phone, not at all phased by Alfred’s loud voice. 

“Apparently there are some pictures of me and Arthur and I was wondering if you could do your magical thingy thing and have them taken it off the internet?” Alfred spoke into the phone at an above normal pace. 

“I will do what I can, Alfred-san. For now, you should get off your couch and go to sleep.” Kiku reminded the American, who was very much unaware of the time or the dropping light outside. 

“Thanks, Kiku, and how did you know I was on my couch?” 

“You are always on your couch Alfred-san.” 

“Good point night dude!” Alfred said, earning a goodbye from the black haired Japanese man. 

That night, Alfred didn’t get any sleep. He didn’t know if it was because of the various pictures of the website that he found, or the feeling that something wasn’t right and he couldn’t figure out what it was. 

Arthur was on the same page, he couldn’t sleep, let alone stand, his entire body was like a brick and filled with pins and needles. Whenever he tried to move he got the feeling that his manager, which he would much rather forget about at the moment, would come back and hit him again. You would think that by this time in his career that he would have done something about it, but everything just got worse after he had tried to do so. This was by far the worst he had ever gotten. Arthur could feel the bruises forming from the plethora of punches that were directed at him, or the cuts that were bleeding from the sharp glass that were thrown around.

The Brit decided that he would stop moping around and get up, or crawl his way to the bathroom where he kept the medical supplies. Arthur casually patched himself up like it was an everyday occurrence, and to be fair it already was except for last night with Alfred. It was one of the first times in years that he didn’t have to spend the night on the floor with blood pouring out of him. Sometimes he thought that he should obey the arse so this would stop, but could never get himself to do it, for the sake of his dignity. For now, he wrapped a large bandage around one of the worst cuts and threw out the paper towel that he used to clear up the blood, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair. Then he lied in bed and tried to get comfortable, which was impossible. 

The next day was a Friday and the end of the second week on the project they were filming and Anri was currently covering up dark bags that were under Alfred’s eyes. 

“You really should get more sleep.” Anri suggested.

“Yeah.” Alfred agreed, too exhausted to say anything else. 

The rehearsal for the day was supposed to be easy, or in some cases harder. It was dancing with the costumes on, but it couldn’t be done for one simple reason; Arthur Kirkland was nowhere to be found. 

As the time neared five in the afternoon, it was supposed to be the time that all costumes and makeup were taken off for the day, with the exception of today. The crew that was supposed to be practising the dances were stuck going through the script and singing the music that they had already memorised. The people in charge had called Arthur’s manager multiple times, only to have it go straight to voicemail. Alfred‘s mind was elsewhere, he was bored and worried about waiting for Arthur, who didn’t even call in to say he was sick or taking the day off. 

The overall day was just a mess. Alfred couldn’t help but worry about the Brit that he still barely knew. 

**____**

That night Alfred made the terrible decision to go clubbing with Francis, Gilbert and Antonio; also known as Hollywood's ‘Bad Touch Trio’. At least Alfred’s brother, Matthew, had called, saying that he was flying into Los Angeles for the week, until he had an important hockey game the following Monday. 

For now they were walking down the strip, with the click of Francis’ heels. Yes, the man was wearing high heels, and nobody dared to call it out as strange. That is unless you wanted to be stabbed with said heel.

Francis was currently going on about the ridiculous standards that the British man was set to achieve. “What do you say, Mon ami?” Francis asked, dropping back to Alfred who was not currently listening to the Frenchman talk. 

“Uh, say about what?” Alfred asked holding the door to the place they were about to probably get trashed in then hit another club before the night ended. 

“I mean to a certain Arthur Kirkland having to wear the luxurious stilettos of course!” The Frenchman exclaimed, clicking up his own heel in the process making Gilbert and Antonio to be the backup men they are and whistle.

“Arthur wearing heels? Who is making him do that?” Alfred laughed looking toward the three, before wondering when Matthew would meet them there. 

“Moi.” Francis said with a signature smile. Alfred just kept laughing, that made Gilbert join in as well. They soon ordered drinks and waited for Matthew who came in a few minutes later and sat himself next to the Prussian who most of the time wouldn’t stop looking at him or low-key flirting with him. Francis ended up starting a game of would you rather which got very sexy, very quickly. 

“Okay, Okay, I got one; would you rather fuck a pineapple or get fucked by a pineapple?” It was Gilbert’s turn. 

It depended on your definition of sexy, which is why nobody was impressed, yet being the people they are they all answered anyway. 

“It would hurt, but I would say fuck a pineapple, because eventually the pain would become pleasure.” Francis winked. 

“Fuck a pineapple. No explanation here.” Antonio decided hands down, before finishing his drink and waiting for the bartender to give the group another round. 

“But it’s mostly the outside of the pineapple that is pokey so I would say that getting fucked by a pineapple would be better if it’s just the leaves, think logically guys.” Matthew decided, surprising the group, but Matthew was edging on drunk so Alfred figured it was normal. 

“There’s nothing logical about getting drilled by a pineapple.” The voice wasn’t one that was recognized among the group already there, but instead it was Antonio’s not so secret significant other. 

“Lovi!” The Spaniard smiled, popping up from his spot and going to hug the Italian who not so silently rejected him. 

“Get off me you tomato bastard!” 

“Oh come on Lovino, don’t get your panties in a bunch and stay a while!” Francis spoke up, tipping back his glass. 

The auburn haired man decided to stay after some persuading and a lot of kisses from a tipsy green eyed Spaniard. 

The famous group just was about to leave at around three in the morning until Francis started grinding on random strangers and Lovino and Antonio started to tango dance whenever a song they recognised came on, even if it wasn’t even related to the style of dance. 

Around four in the morning is when they actually stumbled out of the club and into the dark streets as a gaggle of hot messes and laughter, with Alfred still holding a glass of something that he had long since forgotten the name of and listening to Francis talk about shit that didn’t really make sense. 

“OH! You should see how Angleterre can work A POLE! He is a God, and mon dieu those thighs!” Francis ranted, holding onto Alfred’s shoulders and slipping off his way too tall heels that he insisted on wearing. Alfred just agreed to whatever the francophile said. They ended up calling Gilbert’s manager since he lost at rock, paper, scissors; which must’ve looked really strange. Just six grown adult males, one in leather pants and the others in expensive suits, that were stripped down, playing a game of rock, paper, scissors in the middle of a dark street that was full of flickering neon lights. It probably wasn’t the best part of town either, but that didn’t really matter. What mattered now was that the party continued to go on when they gathered into the limousine with music and lights. 

That is how Alfred woke up on Lovino and Antonio’s floor with Francis lying on the pool table that was stored in the corner of the room, Gilbert was bending over the granite countertop in the kitchen, while Matthew was in the armchair. The owners of the house were lying butt naked on the couch, but to be fair they all lost some clothing that night. Alfred was using his shirt as a pillow and Francis was naked, which surprised no one at all, but his heels somehow found their way back on his feet sometime during the night. Gilbert’s pants took a detour to the sink and Matthew had lost his jacket and was probably the most decent and comfiest of all of them. 

Alfred’s best form of getting out of this situation was probably to call Kiku to see if he was in the area and have the Japanese man bring him back to his house, considering all of his friends were in the same room. Alfred put his shirt back on and walked over to get Matthew who looked very confused at his surroundings until Alfred took him outside and explained, then called Kiku. 

“I am never drinking again.” Matthew reminded himself. 

“You say that a lot Matt.” Alfred taunted, sliding into the back seat of Kiku’s car. Thankfully, he was already trying to find the American anyway, so calling the Japanese man wasn’t a waste of time at all. 

“So do you, Al.” Matthew said, cleaning off his glasses with the sleeve of his shirt.

Currently Matthew and Alfred were distracted by the yard in which they were driving out of, the question that ran out of their minds was;  _ What the actual fuck went on last night? _ Parties with the others were usually fantastic and action packed, but the yard was filled with toilet paper and champagne bottles, and a pair of fishnets hanging from the shrubs. Alfred laughed at the fact that Francis would have to be to clean it all up and pay for damages. The rule was that whoever planned and invited everybody out to party would buy the first round of drinks and be responsible for fixing the mess afterward. But it had happened to all of them once or twice before. 

Matthew was brought back to Alfred’s house since that was where he was staying. For the rest of the day the brother’s spent the day on the couch nursing their headaches while Kiku played personal assistant since he insisted on it. 

Kiku then set himself on the only chair in the room and pulled out some papers. 

“Alfred-san, I am going to need you to sign some papers, and we can discuss the pictures and the movie schedule.” Kiku explained, placing some papers on the coffee table. 

“I knew you were buttering me up, come on Kiku!” Alfred rubbed at his eyes and leaned back into the couch. 

“It wasn’t my fault that you thought it would be a good idea to go out last night, this is your job after all.” The small man argued with a valid point, and as much as Alfred didn’t want to do anything that day, he eventually complied. He leaned down and took the pen that Kiku was handing him, he signed the papers that were being sent his way. That is, after they were all read through, because Alfred had learned the hard way that if you didn’t read the print fully then shit, that wasn’t the best, would definitely happen. Kiku silently put the papers back in his briefcase and cleared his throat before speaking up again. 

“I have already put a word in to the makers of the website and they agreed to take them down as long as you give a brief interview.” Kiku nodded. Alfred groaned, the display caught Matthew’s attention in that moment. 

“You mean the ones with Arthur in them?” Matthew asked, his head to the side and no longer staring at the low volume television that had some kind of sports channel on. It was probably Hockey, considering that Matthew lived and breathed the game. 

“Yeah.” Alfred mumbled, “They always climb the gate to the house and that’s what they got.” 

“And you're taking them down?” Matthew confirmed, Alfred nodded. “Why? I thought they were nice.” 

“Mattie, let me tell you that there are some pretty bad pictures of you on the internet too, and let’s just say that for the better that they should be taken down.” Alfred explained, even though his head was pounding like a drum. 

Matthew rolled his eyes and focused back on the tv while snuggling into Alfred’s couch blanket. 

“Lastly, Alfred-san.” Kiku started again getting the attention of the lazy American. “We need to discuss your schedule.” 

“Fine, lay it on me bro.” Alfred gave his attention to Kiku again. 

“First, you have to be on set until the end of the week and the website’s interviewers confirmed that you will be at their studio on Tuesday. For else your schedule is clear. Besides for that, the house keepers will be here tomorrow at eight in the morning, as well as Wednesday, seeing as you asked them to not come last week.” Kiku said, but Alfred had dozed off on Matthew's shoulder, Matthew himself was also asleep. The black haired man just smiled and stood, excusing himself from the mansion. 

That Sunday was uneventful, other than the fact that Alfred had talked for hours to Matthew about his upcoming movie, and how the Canadian was the first to know anything about it because he was the only one to talk to it about it, since it was still too early in the process for news coverage. Though that would change after his interview on Tuesday. Matthew ended up leaving that same day to meet up with his team to practise for their game tomorrow, while Alfred decided to raid the fridge and then bother Arthur.

The other day when Arthur had asked him to hold his phone Alfred decided to put his number into it. The password had been easy enough considering it was one, two, three, four; which was just downright predictable. Then again, Alfred wasn’t sure that Arthur knew how to work a cell phone all that well, even though he lived in the twenty-first century. 

_‘Yo Artie, what’s up?’_ Alfred was sure that the blonde would answer considering that he also turned the volume up all of the way. But a reply never came, maybe Arthur just wasn’t a weekend person.

Arthur on the other hand had definitely heard the message notification and wondered for a second how the idiot got his number until he remembered that Alfred had his phone for a while the other day. Arthur decided to ignore it and turn down the volume because for some reason it had been turned up. 

Since Thursday night all Arthur had done was change the occasional bandage when it bled through and then went back to bed, he knew that he would have to go back on Monday though. 


	6. “So, tell me what you want to hear, something that was like those years, I’m sick of all the insincere, I’m going to give all my secrets away…”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just couldn’t stand to be there any longer.” Arthur took a deep breath and let the Belgian give him some water and painkillers, referring to him being at home with his manager instead of here at the studio.
> 
> Things are going to start getting a little heavy, but I hate sad stuff, so not for too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title From Secrets By One Republic. This song usually reminds of that one movie with Nic Cage in it from like?? 2010? Despite that, I think it still applies here. (Also nothing against Jersey Girls, I just needed someone at the time and Jersey Shore is what I thought of.)

**Chapter Six: Scene**

Arthur pulled up in front of the building, parking his fast car and marching himself inside the building. He swung his hips all the way to Anri’s where he finally pulled off the sunglasses and shut the door before diminishing the facade as well. 

Anri was astonished at how much she needed to cover up Arthur with, the Brit was squirming the whole time every time she had to put foundation on a cut or bruise. 

“Arthur you know this is the costume rehearsal, right?” Anri asked, concerned, the blonde nodded at the short haired lady. 

“I just couldn’t stand to be there any longer.” Arthur took a deep breath and let the Belgian give him some water and painkillers, referring to him being at home with his manager instead of here at the studio.

Arthur was fully aware that it was the rehearsal where they mixed the costumes, dancing and music over and over until it was perfect and could be put into the movie once they were at the point of perfection. Arthur trudged down the hall and set his bag on the chair in his dressing room and waited for the designers to come in and lay out the outfits that she always did. 

Sure enough she was right on time with her fake nails and bubble gum that Arthur couldn’t stand. Another thing he couldn't stand was her killing his covered bruises with the first outfit he had to dance in. According to what the script said there was a costume switch during the scene that he was dancing in with Francis. Most of them were unfortunately corset like, not so much the second one but definitely the first and third of the film. Then, at the last minute before he was supposed to take off his normal clothing so the customer could help him dress, he panicked and threw his shirt back on. 

He said a very clear and specific order. “Get Alfred.” 

The woman looked at him for a moment and stopped popping her bubblegum just long enough for her to raise an eyebrow and question the decision. “Are you sure? You know we have to get this done quickly before you go onto stage.” 

Arthur didn’t care what she had to say and knew that she was careless, “I don’t care, listen to me and go get Jones.” Arthur ordered. 

The woman shrugged and scrambled out the door so quickly he thought she could have been running for her life. Arthur finally backed down and prepared himself for the next few minutes. The piece had been set on the dresser when she ran out of the room, and for a short amount of time he had a staring contest with it, until a minute later there was a light knock on the door and Arthur put on a scowl again before muttering a quick ‘come in’. 

At the moment Alfred burst into the room with a worried look on his face, Arthur automatically had his own moment of fear when he thought that Alfred might have figured it out. 

“You ‘kay, Artie?” Alfred asked, walking over to Arthur who took a standing position in front of the mirror and vanity. 

Arthur felt a twinge of relief when he realised that Alfred didn’t know anything, the git was just worried for no reason. Arthur just figured he was one of those people that was overly concerned for everyone. “I’m fine you git, I just wanted you to do the ties instead of that uneducated Jersey girl.” 

“Oh, why didn’t you say so?!” Alfred moved closer to Arthur as he rolled off the robe. 

“I just did.” Arthur said, crossing his arms, “Plus you said it yourself the other day, some people just blow off their jobs.” 

“Like you did on Friday?” Alfred asked, his eyes scanned Arthur’s back that was suspiciously covered with mountains of SFX makeup. 

Arthur brought the silver sparkled and black corset around his middle and gave Alfred the string to start at the top with. “Sod off, plus I had a perfectly good reason.” Arthur cringed at the thought of Friday and put his arms onto the fancy, but classy, dresser. 

“K dude, but the guys here were kinda pissed.” 

“Well, I could care less. I am positive that we can finish rehearsing on schedule.” Arthur concluded, wincing as Alfred carefully knotted up the back of the outfit. Arthur had already put the lower bits on before Alfred made his way into the room, in the end the final costume was on and complete. Alfred already had his own costume on before he had come to help Arthur. They both stopped for final makeup and hair fixing and then gathered with everyone else on the main stage to put the three main parts together. 

The beginning consisted of Francis yelling something that started the cue for the music that Roderich’s orchestra started playing. It was a piece that was definitely ahead of the time that the movie was probably set in, but blended spectacularly in a way that nobody had expected. A random camera would film the process so people like Antonio and the directors could look it over and discuss details and fix mistakes, otherwise it would still be put into the behind the scenes clips. 

A group full of all gendered dancers wore similar costuming, with the exception of it all being different colours. Each piece was glittering just as Arthur’s tight corset was, though it was currently hidden under his black dress robe. While he and Alfred waited on the sidelines for their part to come up, Antonio stood just below the stage of the floor of the auditorium watching intently as the dancers got into position behind Francis, who was going to be the lead of the dance. 

Arthur watched as Anri took a seat close to the stage before giving a quick thumbs up and nod that Arthur reciprocated. He watched as everyone danced easily in their dancing heels, seeing as Arthur hadn’t found out that he also had to wear them until a few minutes ago when the designer he shooed away earlier came running back giving him a size that fit like a glove. 

The music was loud as Francis was doing some kind of rap and walking in front of the lines of 8 by 4’s, looking into the camera most of the time. Just for a bit of flare he once even tilted his top hat and winked, seeing as that was what he was known for. Arthur held onto Alfred’s strong shoulder just as Francis had done when they went clubbing the other day so that he too could put on his new dancing shoes. The Brit was given a style of shoe that was still easy to dance in while also spicing up the outfit. All of them, including Arthur himself, wore a saucy sequence of fishnets, heels, and colourful gowns and corsets that would match the time period. 

As soon as Arthur had the things on, he stood up straight and looked toward Alfred whose eyes went wide, “Oh no, now you're almost as tall as me.” Alfred straightened his suit and smiled at Arthur, who just rolled his eyes and waited to push Alfred onto the large stage to join the rest of the dancers. That’s where the rest of the people that were gathered on the stage the other day came in, they were all dressed accordingly and ready to be helpful extras.

Francis still stood singing and barking orders, seeing as he was good at it anyway as the crew set up for the next dance that Alfred was excluded from along with a few others. Arthur almost felt bad for the few that were involved in this part because of how fast paced it was and how much was going on at one time. 

After a few breathtaking minutes it was Arthur’s turn. The next choreography involved way more stunts but for now he would start like everybody else was, except for the fact that he was the center of attention and had to sing the part that was assigned to him, just like some of his co-stars earlier on, in the first part, had done. Specifically, he was singing the parts that went along with the orchestral pieces. Those, however, slowed to a quiet and slow pace, while Arthur got set up and hoped nobody saw anything as he took off the robe and centered himself in front of everybody. Arthur’s job was simple, walk in circles and taunt people while singing like a twentieth century actress, which was easy enough. The extra’s and other dancers did the rest, Lovino and a few others would act as background singers. 

Arthur stumbled through some of the lifts because of how painful it was, but sucked it up and went on with the crowd surfing, for else it was probably fine including the fact that people would be trying to hand him cash and jewelry the whole time. 

Soon enough it was over and it was almost time for Francis to get his ass back onto the stage to do the quick clothing switch and then get Alfred to do the next part. 

They got to get off stage to change instead of completing it like the actual movie would have it. Arthur ran off the stage to the back rooms of the backstage taking Alfred with him, which got a few looks, mainly from the producers and stagehands. They probably wondered why Alfred Jones was following Arthur Kirkland into a dressing room, instead of the assistant that was supposed to. 

Alfred quickly unlaced the first constricting device and Arthur slipped into another one that Alfred quickly laced, then Arthur moved to put the rest of the outfit on while Alfred causally watched like it was a show. It made Arthur nervous, but Anri did a good enough job covering everything in FX paint that matched his skin flawlessly. Arthur then made a dash toward the stage and everything started back up again. Even though Roderich had written in a lyrical break that played throughout the few minutes that Alfred and Arthur ran off to get the different outfit, it was still a crunched time frame that was nearly impossible to beat. Despite that though, they did it, and made it back precisely on time.

The only other problem though was that the new costume would be harder to dance in, but there wasn’t so much involved in the second half except for the parts that Alfred did with him that made everything a little easier. 

After a final dance with Francis, Arthur was carried to where Alfred was and that’s when the final dance of the first part of the film started. Alfred found that it was harder to keep hold of Arthur with the new corset on, but he did it nonetheless. 

Alfred could only hear the distant music in the back of the scene and the click of Arthur’s heels, as he tipped the other back. At this time nobody was singing and it was just Roderich and the instruments as Alfred held onto Arthur, usually during this time, if it was the actual production, then they would have lines, but at the moment Alfred couldn’t remember anything while watching Arthur, even though he had watched him dance a million of times before. It was something about Arthur that looked so focused and hell bent on keeping himself composed for whatever reason, that Alfred couldn’t take his eyes off of. In that moment, Alfred could only guess about what was going through Arthur’s head. To get to the bottom of it the talkative American thought he would strike up a conversation. 

“You know the other night?” Alfred asked, hoping that nobody around them was listening and if they were they were very aware of what Alfred was going to say, considering it was everywhere on the news, but Arthur showed that he didn’t even know anything of it. 

“Yes?” Arthur asked, out of breath and coming back up from another dip.

“Apparently there  _ was  _ paparazzi spying on us.” Alfred said quieter when the dance called for Arthur to put his arm closer around Alfred’s neck so they could be closer. 

“Oh?” Arthur seemed unsurprised. “How did you find out?” 

“It’s kinda everywhere I was surprised that Francis didn’t say anything to you.” Alfred thought out loud. 

“I haven’t talked to the frog yet today.” Arthur finished the turn and broke away from Alfred to complete the next part where they break away and get swarmed by the crowd around them. Arthur ended the number with a bang and eventually went back to Alfred who was standing around waiting just like everybody else, after they finished. The Orchestra finished and the room broke into cheers and clapping, most were happy that the first full run down had been a success even though Arthur missed Friday. Though nobody said a thing because Arthur had done such a nice job on the actual practise performance.

Everybody then waited for the next main dance to start. Arthur sat in the theater chairs watching Alfred complete the scene with a newfound respect. Alfred had changed into a more casual outfit and walked around singing the lyrics that were backed by the orchestra as well as Antonio and the dancers. This dance was the tango that Lovino and Antonio were in together, one that was just dynamic enough to fit the thrill of the music. Arthur would say that he fully enjoyed watching the part alone, even though he would have liked to do it too, he might just have to talk Alfred into doing it just for the hell of it. Lovino was wearing something that was probably far worse than what Arthur had to deal with, but it was probably what made it so realistic when he switched from person to person in the dance before finally getting back to Antonio. The switches looked fun, except that if he tried the dance with Alfred then he wouldn't get to do them. 

Arthur stopped in the middle of his thoughts wondering why he was thinking about Alfred so much, he knew that the young American was good at what he did and passionate about his work. It was something that had made the Englishman’s heart pound the slightest bit faster. The same thing happened when the other blonde would smile at him and make all the pain more bearable and forgettable. He wondered if it was possible to live a life without his manager and just Alfred.

Arthur quickly snapped himself out of his thoughts when he realised that Alfred was looking at him when he sang the lines in the song that intertwined with the sound of Antonio singing. In the background the tap of heels of the dancers in white pounded onto the wooden floor, signalling the end. 

The end was always a bit terrifying but it was powerful nonetheless. 

The last dance was the easiest even though it was a mess of quick hand motions and lyrics of a different language. Regardless, it was finished quickly and the makeup artists took off the actor’s make up and stripped them of their stage clothing. 

“That went well.” Arthur said, taking off some clothes while walking down the hallway to his dressing room with Alfred in tow to help him undress the worst part of the entire costume. 

“I know right! It was awesome!” Alfred said, catching up to Arthur more before taking his smaller hand and spinning the Brit in a small circle. 

“What was that for?” Arthur pressed his lips together and bit back a small smile. 

“What? Can I not dance down some random hall with ya, Artie?” 

“No.” Arthur said, crossing his arms over the sweatshirt that he had on over the corset.

“Aw, why not?” Alfred asked, making a puppy face as he threw his jacket over his shoulder and walked into the dressing room. Arthur was stopped by a PA or an intern that was working for the studio. 

“Mr. Kirkland?” She was younger, probably from a nearby University that was studying film and photography or something that every person did before becoming an important person in the business. 

“Yes? What is it?” Arthur asked politely so he wouldn’t frighten the girl, they all knew how newbies got uneasy when talking to someone like Arthur or Alfred. 

“Your manager said he has a car waiting for you outside.” She stuttered.

Arthur’s face darkened and Alfred popped his head out of the room even though he was missing his shirt, the girls face went red with colour, Arthur gave Alfred an un-amused look and turned back to the girl, “I don’t mean to be rude to you dear, but please tell him to ‘Fuck Off’.” Arthur finished and gave a fake smile before turning into his room, shutting the door, and locking it. 

“Poor Intern.” Alfred said with an exaggerated pout. 

“We’ve all been there.” Arthur summarized. “Now get this bloody thing off of me.” Arthur said, throwing his sweater over the back of the chair and turning so Alfred could untie the bands of the back of the thing. 

“She looked terrified though.” Alfred reasoned. 

“‘It gives them character’, isn’t that what they say? Plus, I said it kindly.” Arthur said, rolling his eyes. He could feel Alfred breathing down his neck as he stood behind him taking off the material. 

“You're something else, Artie.” Alfred laughed and pulled the rest of the outfit off. 

“Whatever that means.” Arthur twirled around once. “One more thing… May I come over again?” Arthur asked, quietly turning around to face Alfred and set the stiff costume onto a wire mannequin that the blue eyed man was standing next to. Arthur hoped that the light was too dim to see anything if any of the pancaked makeup washed off. 

“‘Course, anytime. My car this time though.” Alfred urged.

“Mine is not even here, so yours it is.” Arthur agreed and grabbed his bag that actually had clothes in it this time. 

Arthur and Alfred purposely avoided the front of the building where the car that the Englishman's manager had waiting was certainly at. After his so-called ‘stunt’ where he didn’t go home right away, the man decided to put all of Arthur’s vehicles on lock down and use Arthur’s personal chauffeur for everything instead. One thing his manager didn’t know was where Alfred’s house was. Alfred’s mansion-like house was fifty or so minutes away from downtown LA, which made the rides longer but certainly more fun considered Alfred started singing Beyonce at the top of his lungs, to the point that Arthur was actually laughing which just made Alfred continue until they pulled into the gated house, that was lit up by several coloured lights. 

“I think I could do Broadway. Whaddya say?” Alfred asked, parking his Ferrari, watching Arthur and he looked around the large garage that housed plenty of fancy cars, all probably starting at over a million dollars. 

“In your dreams, Alfred.” Arthur bit back a smile and crossed his arms. 

“You liked it though, didn’t you?” Alfred acted like he would have his feelings hurt if Arthur didn’t say the right answer. 

“I’m sure the people in the car next to us did.” Arthur was referencing the fact that the Ferrari was open roofed and a family that was probably vacationing nearby just so happened to recognise them and roll down the windows to record or just frankly just listen to Alfred and Arthur who joined in sometime along the ride. Arthur had also talked Alfred into trying to do the Tango that the Spaniard and Italian couple were doing. 

Alfred laughed and opened the door to let Arthur in before him and shut the garage door. Alfred walked into the building and set the keys onto the counter-top before throwing off unnecessary clothing, and taking out his contact lenses. He soon joined Arthur who had done the same and then settled himself on the sofa.

Alfred's eyes widened. “Do you always wear leather pants under khakis?” 

“Depends.” Arthur said standing up from the bent position that he was in. 

“On what? I get curious” Alfred asked, curiously his voice getting a bit deeper than intended. 

“Oh? That curious are you?” Arthur seemed surprised at the American as the music started in the background, they had agreed on trying the tango. 

“Just wondering.” Alfred repeated and started what he remembered of the dance, Arthur followed along. They had managed to find a recording of the disk that Antonio had done from the rehearsal that day, and followed through the moves that Antonio and Lovino choreographed. The dance was probably more sexual in nature but they were actors so that is what they were taught to do and Alfred didn’t reject the thought of it when Arthur was involved.

There were also no other people in the room so Arthur just allowed himself to stay in Alfred’s arms and let himself go from one place to another. He did the quick spin with ease before Alfred started singing along with himself on the track, he looked into Arthur’s eyes until Arthur moved down because of a dip that was in the sequence. They then took on the part of the background dancers, Alfred led Arthur as they walked forward and backward, only stopping in the middle for a small stunt. After doing so Arthur wrapped his leg around the taller’s waist, as Alfred spun him around again. 

Alfred then put the smaller man down once again, with a smile on his lips. He followed the normal routine that consisted of Arthur turning around and sliding down Alfred backwards then coming back up again and walking around the sandy haired blonde, eventually facing him again. As the dance progressed, he put his arms around Alfred’s neck and then allowed himself to be dipped back again, in a routine similar to the first dance they shared. Finally, he quickly and expertly joined Alfred like they would start a normal waltz, the only exception being that instead he turned his hips exactly 180 degrees and then dipped all the way back. By that point, Alfred’s hold on him was minimal and he allowed himself to break away and fall to the floor to end dramatically and suspense-fully. Just as the dance called for. 

There was a moment of silence as the two caught their breath.

“You did well for a dance you’ve never done.” Arthur complimented. 

“I know.” Alfred grinned, standing up and offering a hand to the Brit. 

“Don’t get cocky with me, Jones.” Arthur muttered, looking anywhere around the room except for Alfred’s spectacled eyes. 

“I don’t think we did half of it right anyway.” Alfred grinned and found his way to the fridge. 

“I think you're right.” Arthur said, sitting in his place on the floor as he watched Alfred. 

“You know something…” Alfred paused to take a drink of water or whatever he had gotten from the fridge. 

“Hmm?” Arthur hummed and waited for Alfred to speak again. 

“I just remembered that my house had a pool.” Alfred ran a hand through his hair. 

“I am positive that every house from here to Beverly Hills has a pool attached to it, Alfred.” Arthur commented, walking over to the American and stealing his water bottle and taking a drink from it. 

“What I am saying is that we should swim in it. I’d be a good way to cool down, if you know what I mean.” Alfred offered and stole his water bottle back, grinning at the fact that Arthur realised that it wasn’t water. Arthur gave a look of distaste and turned away, Alfred kept his eyes on Arthur’s leather covered ass. 

“Sure,” He seemed vaguely disinterested.“ But I didn’t happen to bring a swimsuit and we all know that you are much bigger than me.” Arthur stopped for a second to turn back to Alfred. “Width-wise.” 

Alfred shrugged knowing that he was a lot more buff than the Brit, because he was just awesome like that. He knew about the rumor that people called him fat, but it wasn’t his fault that he was an American that really liked burgers, plus he worked out like a champion so he could afford to have a snack or ten sometimes. 

Alfred looked smugly back at Arthur, “Who said anything about needing swimsuits?” 

“You are indecent.” Arthur, at this point, was doing anything to avoid getting into the pool naked or at all, he knew for sure that all of the makeup would rub off in the water and eventually the painkillers would wear off, if they hadn’t already. “How about you swim and I’ll watch.” Arthur finally suggested after a stare down with the other. 

“Can I still swim naked?” Alfred asked with a questioning smile. 

“No!” Arthur shook his head and started walking to the door that led to the side of the house with the large patio that led straight out to the pool. But just before opening the door Arthur called out to Alfred, who was headed to his own room with an exaggerated pout on his face. 

“Get me one of your large ass shirts.” Arthur ordered. Quickly Alfred turned so Arthur couldn’t see his cocky smile and raised brows. 

Alfred made his way out to the pool to see Arthur messing with the water with his leather pants rolled up as far as leather pants could be rolled up. Alfred casually threw the shirt at Arthur and jumped into the water splashing the Brit in the meantime. 

  
“Be more considerate, you arse.” Arthur scolded when Alfred popped up from the blue water. 

“Sorry, Artie!” Alfred laughed at the Brit who just gave a signature scowl. 

“Turn around or go underwater or something.” Arthur told, so that he could change into the white dress shirt that Alfred threw at him. Alfred compiled, and Arthur quickly undid his own shirt and pulled down his leather pants, hurriedly putting on the shirt and buttoning it up. He ended up throwing his, now damp, clothes onto the back of a wire and red cushioned poolside chair that was sat not too far from where he was standing.

Arthur then sat on the edge of the pool side with his feet dangling in the water since there usually weren't any injuries that low on his body. The light haired blonde constantly denied Alfred when he asked him to get into the pool. 

“Alfred, for the last time, I do not want to get into the pool.” Arthur continued to deny the American, who looked like he just had a spark of genius. 

“Wait, can you swim, Iggy?” Alfred asked suspiciously. “It’s not even that deep.” Alfred stood, revealing his toned abs and the fact that the water indeed only went up to his lower abdomen. 

“Of course I can swi–wait, Iggy?” Arthur asked, confused, “I still do wonder if you actually remember my name.” He folded his arms across his chest, looking elsewhere.

“‘Course I remember your name, but I just like nicknames. Seriously, why say a person’s full name every time?” 

“Because it is polite.” 

“You're too much of a gentleman, Artie. What if you know em’ well enough and would rather give em’ a nickname or something?” 

“I was raised a gentleman, and I don’t know you that well anyhow.” Arthur tried. 

“Who says that? Would you be at my house if I didn’t know you well enough?” Alfred provided a good point. 

“Hmm, maybe not.” Arthur agreed, touching the water with his hand. 

“So I can keep calling ya nicknames, right?” Alfred swam toward the Brit. 

“No, I never said that. I just agreed that you had a valid argument.” Arthur looked down to Alfred and rolled his eyes at the blonde. 

“Too late, Artie!” Alfred laughed, splashing Arthur in the face with some chlorine infused water. Arthur’s face grew a little red with anger as he tried his best to shove some water in Alfred’s face, but the other ducked into the water just before Arthur leaned down to move the water with his hand. 

“Come back up, you git, so I can put water in your face.” Arthur called, hitting the water with his legs instead. Arthur leaned as far as he could while holding onto the concrete with his hands so that he could look farther into the pool without falling in. Alfred resurfaced a few seconds later, quickly grabbing onto Arthur’s waist and dragging him into the pool. Arthur had momentarily forgotten why he didn’t get into the pool, but he was convinced it didn’t really matter right then and there. 

Alfred brought Arthur back up to surface so he could catch his breath. 

“YOU IDIOT!” Arthur yelled when he could breathe again, the smaller Brit hadn’t realised that he had locked his legs around Alfred’s hips and was holding onto Alfred for dear life. Arthur could swim, he was just not very good at it and preferred to stay on land if he could help it. 

Alfred was laughing and holding Arthur’s back. “I thought you said you could swim!” Alfred asked, looking into Arthur’s green eyes, even though the whole visual was a bit blurry because he didn’t have on his glasses or contact lenses. 

“I can! I just don’t prefer it.” Arthur explained,still holding onto Alfred. Alfred had brought them deeper in the pool, probably about where the deep end met the shallow, and yet Alfred still had his shoulders mostly out of the water. “And I would very much appreciate it if you would put me back on dry land.”

“Why would I do that?” Alfred still had a smile on his face. 

“You’re rude.” Arthur said, crossing his arms while Alfred held him on the back as Arthur kept a tighter grip on Alfred’s hips. “Now if you would kindly let go.” Arthur continued as he now unwrapped his legs from Alfred, who hesitated to let go. 

Now they stood chest to chest with Arthur’s shirt completely soaked through, the Brit’s arms unfolded as he prepared to push himself away from Alfred by putting his hands onto Alfred’s bare kind of muscular chest. Reluctantly, Alfred took his hands away from Arthur’s back while the Brit mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’. 

Alfred’s thoughts had gone elsewhere in that time, his fingers were covered in red. Arthur’s eyes widened at the sight on Alfred’s fingers that were being splashed by the water around them. It was too little of an amount of blood to turn the water red, but it was still visible. Arthur figured that one of the bandages that he put on after practise, with the help of Anri, came undone and had started to bleed through, the rest of the covered bruises were slowly making themselves visible through the see-through dress shirt. Alfred was in a state of panic, Arthur didn’t blame the man, but he knew that the American would panic even more if we turned around to get out of the pool, knowing that would give Alfred a full view of his back and sides. 

Alfred ended up swimming over to the Brit and picking him up and putting him on the edge of the pool. He turned him a little just enough to lift the back of the shirt and see what Arthur was hoping he would never lay his eyes on. It was just with his luck as he figured that the painkillers Anri gave him before the last dance of practise would probably be wearing off by now, just to remind him how much pain he was actually in. Great, just great. 

“Arthur?” Alfred said quietly. 

“I’m fine.” Arthur said sternly and fiddled at the wet sleeves that were rolled up at some point during the night. 

Alfred was staring in disbelief at Arthur's torn up back that was covered in old and new bruises and cuts that were perfectly slashed into his pale skin. Arthur had tried everything to keep himself composed, but he soon found that he would be overwhelmed enough to burst if he stayed near Alfred any longer. Arthur simply got up forgetting about the clothes he kept of the chair and walking back into Alfred’s warm house.

Alfred grabbed what Arthur forgot and ran into the large back door, following Arthur into the house. 

  
  
  



	7. “You’ve been wasting my time, while you’re taking what's mine, with the things that you’re doing...”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Perhaps.” The beach blonde said standing in front of Alfred, in his shirt-dress that went down to his mid-thigh. Alfred smiled at Arthur and pulled him into the large king bed that only ever had one person in it, the second just so happened to be Arthur. 
> 
> I'm blindly choosing paragraphs for the summaries, it's probably a bad idea, but hey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from In my Feelings By Lana Del Rey. 
> 
> I can't tell if Google Doc or the AO3 editor is duping me, one says that some words are right while the the other says that it doesn't exist in the dictionary. I'm so confused. 
> 
> Also this is a long one, not recommend for if you have to go somewhere and are likely procrastinating.

**Chapter Seven: Story**

Arthur just stood unknowing of what to do, until Alfred grabbed his hand. 

“Come on.” Alfred lightly tugged on the other’s small hand and dragged him to the on-suite bathroom. Alfred was never one for being quiet, but for Arthur’s sake he shut his mouth for a second, and sat the other down on the edge of the large bathtub. Arthur sat looking at the floor and clenching his jaw. Alfred dug through his cabinet for anything that he could use for the pained blonde, who seemed to be pale and shivering. 

Alfred threw a fluffy white towel around the British man's shoulders and took him into the bedroom and sat him on the large king sized bed. 

“Artie?” Alfred whispered into the already quiet room. 

“Yes?” Arthur cursed himself for letting his voice crack, he knew he couldn’t keep acting, but he opted for it anyway. It was what he knew best. Alfred didn’t need to know anything. So, why did Arthur want to turn around and say everything? Arthur had already turned around and put his head on Alfred’s shoulder and tucking his head into the man’s neck. 

“Can you take this off so I can patch ya up?” Alfred asked slowly, bringing a hand up and placing it on Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur nodded, pulling back a little with his head turned down, all he wanted to do was turn back time to a few minutes ago when Alfred was holding him in the pool and teasing him for not liking the water. 

Alfred quickly went to work as quietly and as least as painfully as he could. Arthur jumped from time to time and hissed when the American would accidentally touch one of the large cuts. 

Arthur kept his head against Alfred’s collarbone and held lightly onto the other’s now clothed chest that smelled just like the blue eyed man, a mixture of chlorine currently, as well as, coffee and expensive cologne, a mix that was currently comforting Arthur. Alfred had finished his doctor work a few minutes ago and opted for holding Arthur next to him and sitting in silence, until he had broken out in tears. 

Alfred had only remembered comforting Matthew when they were younger, but this wasn’t his younger brother, it was Arthur. A renowned English actor that was known for his skills on the screens and his signature gentlemanly ways, but also his scowl and strong, fierce personality. Right now the man that Alfred met many weeks ago was sniffling onto Alfred’s shoulder like he might have done while acting in a movie, Alfred almost had to remind himself that this was real.

“Why is- What happened?” Alfred searched for the right words. 

Arthur figured there was no point in not saying anything, it would be nice to have somebody other than Anri know. Arthur grabbed tighter to Alfred’s blue t-shirt.

“It-It’s my manager.” Arthur didn’t look up, he didn’t like the warm tears streaming down his face or the way he felt Alfred’s jaw clench above him, “He was recommended to me by my last manager in England.” Arthur started slowly with his words, his thoughts tumbling over each other with every word. 

“At first it was fine, until I told him that I was dating Francis, it was like the bastard got jealous or something, he would give Francis a look sometime or verbally threatened him until he finally told me to break up with him. So I did, but that just meant that I would go out more often to clubs or something. I would still see Francis often, but it was no longer as informal.” Arthur took a deep breath to steady himself before he went on. Alfred sat listening and lightly massaging Arthur’s upper shoulders and lower back where the worst of the trouble was avoided. 

“After that he got possessive and started setting restrictions, saying I couldn’t do one thing or sleep with another. When I did he would start throwing things, sometimes at me or just around my house, the man has no sense for personal property, or personal space.” Arthur still had tears running down his face. 

“It was worse when he wanted to be in a sexual relationship, but I always rejected him and it made him all the more pissed at me. Last Wednesday was one of the only days in years where I didn’t fall asleep trying to avoid putting pressure on a new cut or have to run away from being progressed on.” Arthur was in full sob mode now, making Alfred hold on tighter, he allowed Arthur to keep talking, though frankly, he was speechless for most of it. 

“Why didn’t you just go to the cops or your security detail? Fire him?” Alfred asked, taking Arthur’s smaller head into his hands and wiping the salt water from his cheeks. Alfred, at one point during the story, had to take off his own glasses, just so that the lenses wouldn’t get tears on them. 

“I’ve tried, but my security team only listens to his orders and when I tried to fire him is when everything started to get worse. And the bloody police did nothing but tell me to go to my manager and didn’t listen when I said it  _ was  _ my manager. They said something about it needing to be an emergency for them to do anything about it.” Arthur’s accented voice was quiet and barely audible but Alfred still heard either way. 

“Well, I’m gonna fix this, because I am the hero after all.” Alfred decided and felt Arthur’s lips turn up in a small smile as he choked out a broken laugh. “I’m serious, Arthur.” 

“There is no point, love.” Arthur sucked in air and felt his face go warm at the pet name he gave Alfred, “I’ve dealt with it long enough to know it won’t stop, I think I can deal with it.” 

“No. You shouldn’t have to deal with it. What if one day he goes too far?” Alfred choked up, swearing that he would actually fix it, he had the means and motive and now the story to put it all together and end it once and for all.

“How about you sleep on it instead? We still have to go to the studio tomorrow.” Arthur said, slipping out of Alfred’s warm arms that automatically reminded him he was still only wearing a towel and boxers. 

“One sec, Artie.” Alfred said, getting himself up as well and walking to a large black dresser on the other side of the bed by the closet. He grabbed himself a new dry shirt and got Arthur another big white dress shirt. Alfred took off his other t-shirt and threw the other one on the ground, something Arthur would have probably chided him on if it wasn’t for his current emotional state. He hated feeling weak like this, especially in front of Alfred; who had probably never had a problem like this in his life, since he was physically and mentally built like a rock on the surface that is. Arthur had no way of knowing what went on in Alfred’s head, just what the American showed when he felt like it.

Alfred gave Arthur the shirt and turned around politely. “Thank you, but you know you don’t have to turn around anymore.” Arthur said while putting it on and buttoning it in a matter of seconds. 

The glasses wearing actor just shrugged, “I thought you still would have wanted me too.”

“Perhaps.” The beach blonde said standing in front of Alfred, in his shirt-dress that went down to his mid-thigh. Alfred smiled at Arthur and pulled him into the large king bed that only ever had one person in it, the second just so happened to be Arthur. 

Arthur woke up to something hitting the ground and sprung up in bed thinking that something was being thrown. In panic he looked over to his side to see if Alfred was there and to make sure that last night wasn’t just a taunting dream. 

“Sorry, Artie.” Alfred sat on the edge of the bed on one side holding a plastic alarm clock. “It was ringing and I didn’t want it to wake you up so I knocked it off the table which, uh, didn’t work, and woke you up anyway.” Alfred sighed and stared at the rudely awoken Brit. Alfred didn’t expect for Arthur to automatically go back to his normal ways after spilling his heart out to him yesterday, but at least he seemed normal. 

“You’re an idiot.” He mumbled and scooted back under the warm covers after reading the time of the clock. Alfred looked at himself seeing that it read 4:30 am, which was a highly unnecessary time to be awake. Alfred laughed at himself and crawled back under the covers scooting himself close to Arthur who invited the warmth that radiated off the larger American. Somehow within the next two hours that Alfred and Arthur spent sleeping they drifted together more, in a position where Arthur was facing Alfred’s chest in a backwards spoon. 

Arthur was first to wake up this time just like the first time that he and Alfred spent the night in the same house. 

As Arthur rubbed his eyes he saw that Alfred’s sandy blonde hair was everywhere and looked incredibly soft, however, instead of touching it Arthur moved out of Alfred’s hold. Initially the American groaned at the loss of warmth, but it would be better to avoid awkward situations like last time. He rolled onto his stomach to avoid lying mostly on his back but paused to stop and look at the American. Arthur found himself unable to resist running a pale hand through Alfred’s messy morning hair. He smiled to himself, as Alfred went back to sleep again. He couldn’t blame the guy, last night was a hot mess and he was probably exhausted. 

Now if only he could see the time. It was then that he remembered Alfred fucking around with the clock at an ungodly hour in the morning before he went back to bed, but apparently the man hadn’t bothered to put the clock in a logical position on the nightstand.

Arthur sighed and sat up moving himself around Alfred to reach the clock, what he didn’t know was that the actor had been awake since Arthur rolled out of his arms, and felt when Arthur reached over him to get to the clock. At the moment when Arthur put a leg over him to reach the other side, Alfred grabbed Arthur and rolled over him, enticing a small shriek from the older man as he was pinned under the American that had laid on top of him.

“This hurts my back, Alfred.” Arthur made an excuse to get Alfred off of him while reaching for the clock anyway, he was clearly not surprised that the other had been awake, if he was he didn’t show it. 

“I was comfortable, ya know.” Alfred gave his own complaint and still lied on top of Arthur, who had finally gotten a look at the red clock. 

“Alfred, you dolt, we are going to be late again, get off me!” Arthur said, pushing at Alfred’s shoulders. Unfortunately for Arthur, Alfred had two times more muscle than him and a few more pounds as well. 

“Why? What time is it?” Alfred asked, squinting at the clock. 

“Have you always been this blind? It’s seven in the morning and it takes an hour to get from here to the set, give or take some because of LA traffic.” Arthur frantically got up and stood as Alfred got off of him. 

“No actually, but that’s a story for another time. Plus being late is not really a problem because I have a really fast car.” Alfred considered. 

Arthur seemed interested in the first sentence reminding himself that he should ask about later, before moving on to the second part of the question. “Just because you have a fast car doesn’t mean you can go fast Alfred, you’ll get pulled over.” 

“And If I do then I can just make an excuse, flash a smile and keep going.” Arthur rolled his eyes and walked into the bathroom to freshen up. They were going to be late anyway so he decided to take his time in the shower, he figured that they don’t have to rush if they're already going to be late. He also knew Alfred would put more bandages on his torso if he needed them. After his shower Arthur found his bag in the living room where he left it last night and ate some actual food, instead of cereal like last time. Afterwards, Alfred picked a car from the plethora he had in the garage and they loaded themselves into it. 

It was Alfred’s own Bugatti that the American labeled as the ‘fastest car in the garage’. Before Alfred could start the thing Arthur called in for the both of them saying that they were going to be late because of a shitily made up reason that Alfred snickered at. After that was done, Alfred wasted no time in getting the vehicle on the road while blasting music from the speakers. Once again, Arthur willed himself to go along with it. 

Arthur went straight to Anri and Alfred drifted to the conference room for the next manual reading of the script that everybody had to be present for. Alfred told the director that Arthur had to get his script from his dressing room so the story would fit with what Arthur had said over the phone. The excuse being something along the lines of Arthur pretending that he couldn’t find his script so he went to Alfred’s house to look for it, but the American reminded him that he left it at the studio. They both agreed that it was probably a terrible story, but they were skilled actors and could make it believable, it was arguably a good exercise.

As soon as Arthur joined the rest of the group in full makeup, though it looked natural enough to where nobody else would notice he was wearing it.

Minutes later, they started reading the full script. Alfred read his part first and then followed along with the rest of the script, waiting for Arthur to come in. This reading was supposed to be acted through and needless to say that somehow the parts between Arthur and Alfred that were supposed to be sensual were played perfectly. 

Everybody in the room watched as the two stared into each other’s eyes and said their parts, but never doing any of the actions that went with them, seeing as that was for another time and place. That place most likely being on a practice set, where multiple takes would be done. It was always one of those things that needed mulitiple takes when you had to kiss your co-star, this would be no exception, especially in a movie with a sex scene in the middle of it. 

When they were finally finished with the reading they were allowed a fifteen minute break before they were to meet up with Antonio for a short one hour practice where they worked on the stuff that only partners or individuals needed to work on. 

During the break, Alfred and Arthur sat in the dressing room talking over nothing in particular until there was a knock at the door. Alfred gave a quick ‘come in’ as he relaxed into a chair with his feet kicked up on the vanity, Arthur sat across from him on the vanity, messing around with his paper script. 

The Director, a guy named Marc, and a storyboardist, called Parcy, walked in and they set themselves down in chairs that were not occupied as of the moment. 

“If you guys only stay in one dressing room anyway then I might have to ask you to share and save room for the rest of us.” Marc, the Director, started. 

“I wouldn’t mind, Artie here might.” Alfred said with a signature grin.

Arthur crossed his arms and rolled his eyes “My name is Arthur, and yes I would mind sharing with you, you dolt.” 

Alfred laughed and focused his attention back to the storyboardist who was drawing or writing something down as the Director, just watched the two of them like he was enjoying a show. 

“Anyway we came here to discuss business.” Marc started. Alfred’s grin fell when he saw that the Director had a straight face on. 

“If this is about that interview I accidentally agreed to today then I can tell you that it wasn’t my fault, it was Arthur’s.” 

“I have no idea what you're on about but at least you gave me the right name this time.” Arthur defended himself, he knew he was acting but he only did it around other people, they didn’t need to know that he and Alfred were friends. 

Marc looked back at his storyboardist who just smiled while he turned back to the British and American men. “I don’t know what Interview you have Alfred but if they ask about the movie, say that you are doing a project but don’t give them anything else.” Marc smiled. 

“I highly doubt they’ll ask about that.” Arthur mumbled under his breath realizing that the interview that Alfred probably had was about the paparazzi pictures of them from the other day. The three in the room didn’t seem to notice though. 

“We are here to discuss the sex scene.” Marc said abruptly.

“We’re all adults here dude.” Alfred commented, hoping to ease some of the tension that fell upon the room.

“Well, I don’t know about  _ all  _ of us.” Arthur followed up, earning a laugh from Parcy and Marc, while Alfred just looked utterly confused. 

“Anyway, I know a lot of people are anticipating this part and also dreading it.” Marc started, “But I know both of you have done this before, right?” 

Alfred and Arthur nodded, a lot of actors had done sex scenes, including them. Currently, the only thing that Arthur was worried about was the amount of makeup that would have to cover him up, because he would have to be fully naked. Alfred was thinking the same thing but didn’t say anything, knowing that there were other people in the room. 

Usually actors would normally be fully naked or choose to be covered if they so wanted, but it didn’t look nice and it was uncomfortable so most just opted for nothing at all. Typically there was little to no makeup anywhere because of how it could smudge or rub off and get messy. As expected it was normally always a bit awkward. Alfred and Arthur, however, knew that they were just trying to set things up for when the real scenes actually came time to shoot so that they could have some sense of what to do. That was probably the reason for Parcy being in the room. 

“I’m cool with whatever as long as Artie is.” Alfred decided and looked over to Arthur. 

“Myself included.” Arthur agreed, his arms and legs crossed over one another as he sat on the dresser. 

“Parcy, you should show them what is planned.” Marc suggested, motioning for them to turn the notepad around. Usually some would make a sketch from references but Parcy seemed to do it by themself.

Parcy turned the page around and gave it to Alfred, Arthur got up off the vanity and made his way to behind Alfred who was looking at the page with wide eyes. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, other than the fact that they were so detailed, yet Arthur looked at it and shrugged. 

“I’ve done far worse.” He said, walking away from behind Alfred’s chair. 

“With who?” Alfred asked, looking up from the notebook.

“None of your business, Jones.” Arthur taunted knocking Alfred’s feet off the counter top and leaning against it but not sitting on it again. “Unless you're jealous.”

“No. Just curious.” Alfred crossed his own arms mimicking Arthur’s stance. 

“If you would please direct your attention back to me.” Marc cleared his throat. 

“What is it?” Arthur snapped, while still staring at Alfred, trying his best to keep himself composed. 

“This is just about settled and so we will leave you to go back to your rehearsal.” Marc and Parcy stood up and walked out of the room. 

Marc left with the final word, “Parcy said you guys should look that over.” Marc pointed to the notebook filled with drawings and pictures of the up and coming part. 

As soon as they both left the room and Alfred and Arthur were sure that they were alone, they both broke into laughter. The pair had pretty much accepted the fate of a sex scene already. Arthur, though, had a question about something else. 

“You said earlier that you had an interview.” Arthur wondered, lifting himself to sit on the counter-top again. 

“Yeah, in exchange for taking the pictures off the internet they asked that I do an interview instead.” Alfred explained. 

“Is that what you were trying to tell me yesterday?” Arthur asked, looking at Alfred’s blue eyes that weren’t hidden behind a pair of glasses. 

“Yeah. But it’s a small price I guess.” 

“I suppose.”

“What are you going to do though?” Alfred stood and walked over to Arthur, leaning against the table but not sitting on it like Arthur was. 

“Hmm?” Arthur figured Alfred was talking about his manager, who would probably get mad if he got a sliver. “I haven’t a clue. But I’ve dealt with it long enough, I think I can a while longer.” 

“I don’t wantcha too, Artie.” Alfred looked down at his hands, not able at Arthur. 

“It’s not like I can just decide to move out of my own house.” Arthur factored. 

“Why not?” 

“Alfred, I live there.” 

“With a monster that treats you like a punching bag!” Alfred yelled, hoping that it wasn’t heard anywhere except for their one room. 

“Alfred…” Arthur whispered, unsure about what else to say. 

“Sorry Arthur, but-” 

“It’s fine. But I can’t just keep crashing at your house.” Arthur reasoned 

“Why not? I live alone and there are plenty of rooms, including mine.” Alfred offered grinning a little. 

Arthur scoffed, “I think we should get to the auditorium.” 

Alfred went on through rehearsals with Arthur at his side, this time exceedingly careful with handling Arthur, but all the while dreading the upcoming interview he knew he couldn’t get out of. 

What Arthur didn’t know was that he was coming along for the ride. 

Alfred’s priority was to get to the company conducting the interview, meet Kiku there, give a lightning fast speech, and go home. He never thought that he could convince the Brit to go with him, eventually he did though. 

But Arthur was persistent, and being as stubborn as he was it took Alfred a handful of minutes to even convince the Brit to get the same car as him. Arthur, by no means, wanted to join Alfred in his interview knowing that it would get more media attention if they were both there. 

“Just so you know we are getting drinks after this.” Arthur said, finally caving. “But not too many, I am a terrible drunk.” 

“Man, I would love to see that. Ya know Francis said something about it the other day when we all went out, but I can’t remember what exactly.” Alfred said, moving his hair with one hand and driving with the other. 

“What did the bloody frog tell you?” Arthur demanded, his eyes peered over his sunglasses as he turned in his seat. 

“I can’t remember. I was trashed, maybe it was something about you being able to pole dance.” Alfred grinned, laughing at the look on the angry Brit’s face when he stopped at a stop light and looked over his own sunglasses. 

“I swear one day I will kill him.” Arthur huffed, hitting his head against the back of the seat. 

Alfred kept laughing at Arthur as he pressed his foot to the pedal when the light turned green. “How long have you known Francis?” He questioned when he finally stopped laughing.

“Too long.” Arthur paused and seemed to be remembering something. “We met in secondary school.” 

“Secondary school?” 

“Right, this is America. It is roughly middle school, high school, age.” Arthur fixed as Alfred turned a corner. 

“Ooooh, what was little Francis like?” Alfred asked, his smile never leaving his face. 

“An arse and just as much as a pervert as he is today.” Arthur scowled, watching as they turned into the parking lot before hearing camera shutters and seeing the lense flash through his sunglasses.    
  


Alfred started waving and smiling and winking at the camera, as Arthur just held a straight face and walked beside Alfred toward the front door. 

“After you.” The taller said, holding the door for the other blonde. 

“I can open doors, you git.  _ Why am I even here? _ ” Arthur scolded as he wandered through the door. He fully regretted coming inside with Alfred, he should have just stayed in the opened roofed car even though it was probably one of the hottest days yet. 

Immediately Kiku stood up and walked over to Alfred, he glanced at Arthur who stood just a little bit behind Alfred looking as expressionless as always except for a scowl plastered to his face. While talking about what Alfred should say and what he should not say, Kiku was interrupted by a woman dressed in an expensive pan suit who had an unsettling smile on her face. Arthur decided that he should just walk out the door now, and nearly did when she noticed him. 

“Kiku, you didn’t tell me Arthur was coming too!” She squealed, Arthur was already starting to get a headache, Alfred just turned to look at Arthur. 

“I didn’t know.” Kiku commented. 

“Well, he will be in the same room as Alfred, of course! They can answer the questions together considering they were both in the pictures! If you’ll follow me, right this way.”

“Might I just say that I think I will definitely be needing those drinks after this.” Arthur said, walking side by side with the American as they were led to a lift. 

“No problem, Artie.” 

“My name is still Arthur.” He said, getting in the lift as the woman hit floor twenty-five. Alfred just smiled as they were led into a room and sat down. On the other hand, Kiku would stay on the same floor but not in the same room. 

The two blondes were greeted with another face that wasn’t familiar, she was a red-head that sat in a white chair talking to an assistant about something but stopped and stood up when Alfred and Arthur walked into the room. The lady was confused, yet delighted, to see Arthur following the American. 

“Get another chair would you?” She asked, she had an accent as well that probably resembled Irish. 

“No need for that, Artie can just sit in my lap.” Alfred sat down, earning a look from the red head. 

“No, I most certainly will not. Please get another chair.” Arthur snapped, then turned to the assistant that the redhead had asked in the first place. The man looked quite confused but did as Arthur asked. The redhead sitting across from then motioned for the camera to be turned on already. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” Arthur folded his arms and looked at Alfred, who had a puppy pout on his face. 

“Why not? I would be more comfortable than a chair any day.” Alfred tried to convince. 

“I doubt that.” Arthur rolled his eyes and sat down in the new chair. 

“Let’s get started shall we?” The red haired lady said, getting the attention of the two men on the other side of her. 

“‘Course.” Alfred charmed by putting on a smile, earning a look from Arthur, who just did his best impression of pretending like he wanted to be there, by putting on his own smile. It was not quite as large as Alfred’s but it was still a smile, nonetheless. 

“Let me start with saying that we weren’t expecting you, Arthur.” 

“Frankly, neither was I.” Arthur mumbled, crossing one leg over the other. The woman smiled and looked down at her paper for a second. 

“How about we get right into it?” She looked nervous, probably because she was interviewing not one, but two, infamous actors. “Is there another movie or project that you guys are working on currently?” 

Alfred knew how this was going to go. At first the interviewer would ask normal questions before trying to pull up gossip and new information, and if she was any good at it then she would almost certainly get to the main point after a few questions.

“Yes, actually.” Alfred answered leaning back in the chair and looking back at the reporter, he didn’t want to look out in the large room that was probably filled with other personnel. 

As predicted, the room was full of other people doing various jobs while they sat in front of an artificial white background with lights pointing at them from all different angles. The extra lighting was probably put in place as the last of the light coming through the windows of the building was starting to fade. 

“Is it something you can talk about?” She asked tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. 

“Nope.” Alfred answered and looked over to Arthur who just sat quietly watching the two converse. 

“Would this be the reason that you two were seen leaving together?” She asked warily. 

“Yeah.” Alfred seemed bored with the question. 

“Which raises my next question.” And here was that one question that all actors hated “What  _ is _ your relationship with one another?” 

“Strictly platonic friends.” Arthur spoke up. 

“That was quick Mr. Kirkland, is there anything else you would like to add?” She seemed to lean forward in the white chair and peer into Arthur’s green eyes. 

Arthur shook his head matter of factly.

“It was a basic practice for our parts.” Alfred stared back with his piercing blue eyes and a wide smile, clearly trying to get her to lay off.

The girl didn’t seem convinced and she was already getting on Arthur’s bad side. “Can you give us any details of this movie?” 

“No.” Arthur replied, crossing his arms. Arthur was sure that it was one of the most annoying, slow, and useless interviews that he had ever seen or been in. Alfred ended up talking about other useless stuff until the interviewer got bored and called the meeting to a close. 

Kiku was watching the whole scene play out on a screen outside of the room, he simply approved of everything said with a nod and stayed back to talk with the rest of the staff.

Once Alfred and Arthur were back in Alfred’s car Arthur settled onto the warm seat, and sighed “She was infuriating.” 

“I think that you think that everyone is infuriating.” Alfred concluded and pulled out of the lot. 

“I despise people who suspect things.” Arthur reminded. 

“I think if we drink everything will be better.” The sandy blonde offered.

“If I had a dollar for every time I told myself that, then I would be a millionaire.” 

“Sorry to break it to you Iggy, but you kind of already are.” Alfred laughed when the Englishman tried to retaliate but couldn’t. It was starting to get dark after the interview and all Arthur wanted to do was have a few drinks and crash back at Alfred’s house. 

“What about your car?” Arthur asked, as they drove through the streets with the night time lights and the cool breeze. 

“I’ll just have one of the butlers come and get it.” Alfred explained, looking toward Arthur as the Brit looked back at him as he drove the fast car down the busy street. 

“Curious, I haven’t seen one of them yet.” Arthur said, turning his head to watch out the windshield as the world pasted by. 

“Don’t like havin’ them around.” Alfred decided, “They do come around when I ask them too though.” 

“I see.” Arthur responded as Alfred turned into the big and loud club that had a line a mile long around it. “Are you sure, Alfred? The line is beastly.” 

“I know the guy that owns it, they let me in every time.” Alfred said, waving at the people who pulled out their phones to start taking pictures of Alfred and Arthur, he then nodded at the bouncer, who opened the door right away with an echoed nod. 

The whole place was huge, it started with a lift ride to the main floor of the place. It was loud and the music bounced off the walls, there were people everywhere dancing and drinking. Arthur thought clubs were not something that Alfred would like, but apparently he was wrong, seeing as he led Arthur to the bar and ordered whatever they wanted without much of a thought to everything around him.

Alfred figured that he and Arthur had been at the establishment for a maximum of twenty minutes before the Englishman was fully drunk. 

“I can’t remember if I'm catholic or protestant.” Arthur slurred. Alfred laughed and took a drink of his own glass. “I maybe or maybe not be, like fuck faced.”   
  
“No kidding, Artie.” Alfred said, ordering another round. 

“You wanna go, mate??” Arthur asked, popping his head up from the counter it was sitting on, before flopping down again. “I am pretty sure I fell asleep in a pile of garbage last night, at least that's what I feel like.”

“Artie, you slept in my bed last night.” 

“Oh.” The Englishmen’s eyes went wide, but he said nothing else.

For the next two hours Alfred and Arthur continued to get royally hammered even though it was only Tuesday. Somehow, Alfred and Arthur had stumbled into Alfred’s house and the American waved off the butlers and closed the door in their faces. Alfred quickly stumbled into his bathroom to take out his contact lenses, probably aware he had to because of the alcohol wearing off. 


	8. “Your love is scaring me, no one has ever cared for me as much as you do…”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred was talking to the people behind the camera, while Arthur was lost in thought, but his brain started drifting toward the American. Who was soon stood staring at him and saying a few lines with a smile on his face. Arthur, at that moment, kind of wished all parts of shooting a movie could be this way, it was almost relaxing as he sat on the loveseat in the set, making faces and blinking his makeup covered eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Scary Love By the Neighbourhood. 
> 
> Another long chapter, oof.

**Chapter Eight: Start**

Arthur, needless to say, woke up with a major headache. Alfred had already gotten himself out of the bed that they had once again ended up sharing last night. They hadn’t done anything from what Arthur could see of his intact clothing. Alfred met his eye when he walked into the room and saw Arthur sitting up in his bed, arms were out behind him, holding him up, and his cream coloured button up shirt was crumpled from being slept in, his hair was even more messed up than usual. 

Alfred smiled and sat down next to Arthur, “Here.” He said, handing the struggling brit some pain killers and water. 

“Thank you, what time is it?” Arthur swallowed and brought his eyes to look at Alfred’s, whose glasses were still on his face, signalling that he hadn’t even thought about going to the set yet. 

“Six-thirty.” He answered in his crisp American accent that made chills go down Arthur’s spine, or maybe it was because he was just cold. Arthur brought himself back under the covers turned away from Alfred. 

“Come on dude, you're always telling me not to be late.” Alfred lifted himself to look over at the smaller man, who was cosily bundled in Alfred’s comforter. 

“I am hungover.” 

“I know! You were hilarious yesterday!” Alfred cheered. 

Arthur groaned and rolled over again. He stopped himself from talking, or in this case, screaming in the bloody American’s face and sat up again. 

Minutes later they were gathered in the car on their way to the studio while finally being early, all while Arthur complained that he had a constant headache, and that everything was hurting. 

Anri spent a good portion of the morning covering Arthur up. He had now spent two days away from his house and every once bleeding cut was scabbing and the bruises slowly darkened before they would finally fade away. 

Arni noticed that Arthur’s usually sour attitude was mixed with a hint of a smile. The room had been quiet after Arthur had stopped talking about how much his head hurt. At first, the girl was worried until Arthur explained that he and Alfred had gone out drinking after the interview last night and he had gotten shit faced. 

Alfred knocked on the door when Anri was doing the final touches, he first looked toward Arthur with a smile before turning to Anri. “There are a few people on set that need you, and Arthur and I need to go to the studio sets.” Alfred spoke softly, first to Anri and then Arthur with a smile.

Arthur returned the smile and nodded, it was rare but it happened when Arthur found something he was happy or passionate about. Anri had noticed it as Alfred backed out of the room saying to Arthur that he was going to be in his dressing room, making sure to add a wink, Arthur couldn't seem to place why though. 

Anri’s young face broke into a grin, “You told him?” 

Arthur nodded, “He listened to me, but the git thinks he can do something about it.” 

“That’s good, right?” 

“Well, there is nothing he can do, what he is doing now is enough.” Arthur had said exactly what he thought in that moment and he was convinced of what he had said. 

Next part of the day included getting normal costumes ready for the dress rehearsal of the movie. They had already figured out the arrangements and the clothing they were to have in the dancing scenes, but now they were going through a whole other day of fittings that would result in the clothing for the parts that they wouldn’t be singing and dancing in. Unfortunately for Arthur, the outfits that were drawn for himself consisted of a lot of tight clothing, Alfred gave a signature laugh while Arthur just scowled, only to have Francis pop out of nowhere and start trying to straighten the lines of his face, to which Arthur, who was exceptionally irritated today, started throwing punches at the asscrack with the name of Francis. 

A few staff, including Alfred, had to pull Arthur off of the Frenchman so neither of them would end up with a broken nose. In the end Francis sat on the floor as Arthur struggled to get out of Alfred’s arms to punch the Frenchman again. 

“Le ow.” Francis whined. 

Alfred took Arthur back to the Briton's dressing room and set him in a chair before leaving again. Arthur thought that Alfred wasn’t going to come back for a second until he pushed the door open again and revealed himself. This time he was carrying two armfuls of clothing, one of which, Arthur guessed, was for him. Arthur was still in the same place that Alfred had left him a few minutes ago with his arms crossed and cursing under his breath. 

“Do you see now why I will kill the bloody frog one day?” Arthur ranted and got up and walked around his room. 

“Artie, it’s just Francis.” Alfred reminded as he threw an article of clothing at Arthur. “Put this on.” 

  
“What? Why?” Arthur looked down at it confused, he knew they were going to do another clothing rehearsal but the brit was just convinced that it was for the dancing parts and not the speaking parts. 

“We are going to start doing the speaking parts today. Remind me never to take you drinking on a weekday ever again.” Alfred laughed and started putting on his own costume on in front of Arthur, who just turned around with a blush drifting across his face. 

After a few seconds of arguing with himself he let out a sigh and put on the blasted thing, he found that it was not as bad as he thought it might be, but he was afraid to admit that he might be getting used to the corsets. Arthur was only concerned about the fact that it showed so much, luckily Anri had done her job correctly. It just so happened to be the first outfit that he was ever told to put on during the making of the film, but a few things were altered, including the design, which had taken Alfred a longer amount of time to figure out how to lace up. The rest, however, was easy and was similar attire to that of the other dancers as well as a simple throw over to cover some of the sensual outfit. 

Arthur huffed a little as he saw that all the American had to wear was a nice suit. With a sigh he followed Alfred to the next set that they were going to be on to do a quick run through of a scene. 

Only a few minutes in and Alfred couldn’t stop laughing. 

Arthur was told and read on the script that he was to sit on the bed and watch as Alfred talked through his lines, the only things that Arthur was in charge of doing, however, was just breathing and a few erotic gestures. But after everyone of the little motions Alfred had to stop and laugh at Arthur, who then continued to try not to laugh and scowl at the immature American. 

“You are supposed to be a professional, Jones.” Arthur pursed his lips to keep his face from a smile like he so often did. The director, Marc, had already motioned for the cameraman to cut the scene and either trash it or put it to bloopers. 

Another person on set held a clapboard and snapped it to signal that they were starting again. The dress rehearsals weren’t official takes so it wouldn’t really matter how many times they fucked up, this time around it was just to get a feeling for the set and talking to each other in the character's perspective. Other things had to get sorted before the movie could actually be put in full filming process such as legal things, like the music that Roderich would play, and lines written, just to make sure that they were never copied from anything else. 

Alfred managed to get through a few more lines before he was supposed to turn around and see Arthur again. The Brit was to lie on his back and pretend to be exasperated by Alfred’s shenanigans, even though he already was, which made the part so damn easy. Alfred was already laughing by the time the next part was supposed to play out. The crew around the camera were starting to snicker, as Arthur tried so hard not to laugh as it wasn’t something that he was known for, but when he did people were often surprised. At the same time, however, Alfred Jones was notorious for laughing at a suggestive scene and wouldn’t be afraid to film it again when he messed up. Despite all of the laughter Arthur held strong and they continued the scene.

Not even a minute later, the script called for Arthur’s character to zip down Alfred’s pants like he was ripping off a band aid and finally Arthur broke. He looked back to Alfred, laughing, and saw that Alfred was in tears and shaking his head with a large grin on his face, before Marc yelled cut. 

“I can’t tell if this is awkward or hilarious.” Alfred screeched. A back up camera was still filming. 

“A little bit of both I suppose.” Arthur answered and bit his lip, he then stepped back and let Alfred zip his own pants. 

After many more mess ups, Marc figured that they were wasting time and ordered that they go change for the next set of rehearsals. Arthur was weirdly having fun, most actors did when it was only the rehearsal part and they could just say a few lines and loosen up around their co-stars, not that he wasn’t comfortable with Alfred already. It was just different, one could say. Just before they changed for a different part, another group of people were to join them on the set and play around with the lines that they would have to say. 

In this group of people was Francis, Gilbert, Antonio, a small Fin named Tino, as well as a taller Swede named Berwald–who for some reason kept calling the blonde Fin his wife. Last, but certainly not least, there was a very loud Danish man with blonde hair that stuck up enough that it could rival Arthur’s. Alfred took note that they should have a contest one day, considering that this Dane was one of his good friends with the name of Mathias. Together the fans named Mathias, Gilbert, and Alfred the awesome Trio of Hollywood. 

They all got into position, the Finnish man was to stand next to Alfred and mumble his lines, Mathias played the Piano, and the Swede, who didn’t talk much, played the role of the man who helped write the story. 

All in all the part was the most hectic of anything they had done so far and all Francis would do is praise Alfred’s handiwork on Arthur’s outfit. 

The scene started with the blonde group and Antonio quickly setting up for the part which caused half a dozen crew members to burst out laughing. It was another singing number, less extravagant than those with dances involved, but nevertheless it was loud and fast paced and was all sung directly to Gilbert–who just sat with a huge grin on his face. 

Alfred, Arthur, Francis, Mathias, Tino, and even Berwald, starting singing the tune to the best of their abilities all while trying their best not to screw up and laugh as they all stood behind Francis and sang. Arthur and Tino had taken the high vocalized parts of the song even though there was no music, besides what Mathias had been playing on the piano, it sounded like a barbershop quartet but with six people. Gilbert’s character, however, had to sing at the end and neither the character nor he could sing, making him perfect for the part. The director, Gilbert, Mathias, and the rest of the people watching the charade broke into laughter as soon as Gilbert finished. 

Regardless of the state everyone was in they finished and were sent to change into the next scenes costumes. 

Alfred didn’t have to change much and the rest of the group didn’t either. It was mostly a simple party scene with Tino hanging off the side of a building with no pants on, Antonio, a gay man, stood flirting with a lady dressed accordingly, and the swede was passed out on the floor. Francis was nowhere to be seen, Arthur wasn’t in the scene, and Alfred sat in another room contemplating his life choices. In other words nothing too usual was happening. 

Arthur watched in another scene’s clothing covering his mouth with his hand so that nobody could see him smile. His and the blue eyed man's scene was coming up a little later, and it was unsurprisingly another musical number, one that didn’t require a huge number of people to succeed, or even a small number, it was just the two of them. 

Arthur stood in a tight red overcoat that, for once in this production, was not a corset type thing. It was complete with a pair of sensible pants underneath and stockings that were partnered with it. The scene afterward didn’t last long, it was fairly easy a serious act that Alfred and Arthur laughed through anyway. Arthur was laughing through the part as Alfred lifted him up, it wasn’t in the script, but it soon made its way in when the director and storyboardist loved it. 

The next scene was just Gilbert sitting in a chair looking ridiculously uncomfortable while talking to Francis, that is until the white haired German had the lines to yell in Francis’ face. Francis ended up winking and laughing at Gilbert who joined in. 

The day continued when the next outfit came into play, it was a lovely robe that had nothing underneath and yet still covered everything. Arthur was delighted claiming that it was the comfiest thing on set. The Briton also took the time when they were on set again to tease Alfred about it, who stood in a suit. Tino was there as well, ogling over the lines, seeing as it was in the script. Arthur had never met the Finnish man until the last few scenes, but he happened to like the guy, he was sweet even when his best friend, the tall Swede, would always shoot glances at Arthur when he looked at the small purple eyed man. From what Arthur could see he was a great actor who filled in when Alfred’s brother, Mathew, had denied the part, saying he was ‘no good’ on screen. The Canadian was shy so Arthur didn’t blame him, he thought it was useless to take the man from the ice where he obviously belonged with a stick and puck considering where his level of skill was at it. 

Alfred was talking to the people behind the camera, while Arthur was lost in thought, but his brain started drifting toward the American. Who was soon stood staring at him and saying a few lines with a smile on his face. Arthur, at that moment, kind of wished all parts of shooting a movie could be this way, it was almost relaxing as he sat on the love-seat in the set, making faces and blinking his makeup covered eyes. 

Arthur had known from the beginning that his casting had been an accident. The original role was supposed to go to another female that auditioned but something had happened that made Arthur the first male actor to play a female role in a big time movie, which strangely enough gave him a proud feeling, but nobody would know that. Arthur now smiled a little as Alfred made a ridiculous declaration and acted out a part by standing on a balcony that was placed in the studio apartment set. Alfred then tried to jump out of the window, causing both the Fin and the Brit both to reach out and deny Alfred of jumping out of the window. 

Alfred was excited, he loved these rehearsal days when you could see things starting to come together. He loved it when the other actors would act their part when there was dialogue between them, and the way that some things would make Arthur laugh even when he didn’t want to. Or on occasion there was a typically hilarious part that caused everyone to laugh. It was all so great and this current scene didn’t help, it only made him more riled up and happy. 

After nearly jumping out the window, he walked toward Arthur, who was actually smiling and sitting leisurely on the sofa, the blonde Fin in the room was giggling at the sight and yelling some words of gratitude from the paper script that they all currently had around them. 

Arthur was an actor so obviously he could make himself laugh, it was almost required, but now he felt that it might be all genuine as Alfred sat down on the bench next to him, leaned over him and whipped out his script. Tino was shy, but also an actor, so he acted normal as if nothing was going on between the two when he walked over, he could see that the blonde Brit was waiting for the movie scene kiss, but Tino thought for a moment that the Brit might actually be in love. 

Until the scene ended and Arthur pushed the American off him. “Too close there, Jones.” Arthur crossed his arms and leaned back into the seat he was lying on. 

“Aw, come on Artie, it’s in the script. I am supposed to!” Tino watched as Alfred looked at Arthur, who just stared back with a particularly large eyebrow raised in question or maybe it was amusement. 

“Doesn’t mean you have to, you twit.” Arthur was now getting up with Alfred following like a puppy.

“But I want too!” Alfred smirked knowing that Arthur would just call him another name. 

Throughout their time on the set they learned, through the stagehands, that they were going to run through most of the set today meaning it might take a little longer than it usually did, which meant leaving later in the day. 

A few minutes later Arthur stood ready for the next scene. It was a point in the movie where Arthur’s character was switching love interests. For a time he smiled at Alfred, then turned to do the same to Gilbert who played the counter romantic role, which successfully made Alfred’s character jealous. In other words, Alfred was his main love interest while Gilbert was the character that longingly wanted him. It was kind of difficult to do, but somehow Gilbert managed to pull it off, saying it was; “only because he was awesome”. Alfred commented saying that ‘awesome’ was kind of Gilbert’s thing. 

For the most part everything was running smoothly, however, the Briton found himself fighting a wave of anxiety for the next scene. It was the scene where they would have to kiss each other, him and Alfred. They managed to avoid it in other scenes, but it was basically a turning point that Gilbert third wheeled for, yet wasn’t supposed to know about. 

  
“Is there any way that I can do this another day let’s say when we are actually filming?” Arthur tried asking Marc, the orange haired director. 

  
“Why? You know you're only playing a female character, not that you actually are one. I am pretty sure Alfred doesn’t have cooties.” Marc said, motioning behind Arthur–who was all dressed up already and waiting for the said American to join them. 

“You are such a child.” Arthur rolled his eyes. He had worked with Marc before and knew that the director had some antics that Arthur was not very fond of, but the man knew what he was doing and was exceptionally good at it. 

“Hey, I am the one who hired you.” Marc pretended to be hurt by Arthur’s words like Francis always did. Arthur took note of the resemblance, despite the fact that Marc wasn’t the type to wear heels around the city and flirt with every person/object he came in contact with.

“But I just want to know if it can be put off?” Arthur prodded around behind Marc in his clicky heels that never made him much taller than anyone, with the exception of a few people.

Marc seemed to think for a moment. “No.” 

“And why not?”

  
“Because I said so. It’s just a rehearsal, there shouldn’t be a problem, plus you’ve done this before.” Marc reasoned. Arthur knew he was making a big deal but there wasn’t enough time before Alfred joined them again, and he would have to do it. He felt that it would be awkward between them afterward and Alfred happened to be Arthur’s only safe place to go. Which is what brought up the fear in the first place. 

He couldn’t get out of it, he had done it so many times before, hell, he had even agreed to the sex scene. So why in the world was this so much of a problem? 

There wasn’t much going on, it was just Alfred and Arthur in a room and Gilbert would after a few seconds barge in carrying something random. Surelythey didn’t have all the props yet, which is another reason that this was just a rehearsal phase of the movie. 

A few times during this scene of the movie, Arthur, dreadfully, had to change into multiple different outfits that were pleasing to look at but definitely not wear. So far the scene was quiet and only called for the younger man to kiss Arthur on the lips. However, as soon as Alfred was mere centimeters from his face, Arthur started to laugh, considering that it was how they avoided it the first time. Alfred followed along knowing that this was weird, but they were actors so it didn’t matter. Right?

The second time they got closer yet again before Arthur turned his head, and squeezed his eyes shut and felt as Alfred just pressed his lips to the side of Arthur’s mouth and laughed again. It was after a few takes that Arthur finally gave up and gave in letting himself actually be kissed by the idiotic American. Yes, it was awkward, and yes, Arthur wanted to do it again. 

What? 

Arthur was quick to do the next wardrobe change of the scene and then go back out to the set where Anri was waiting to do the next part of the makeup that the storyboardist thought up. Arthur’s character had been allowed to wear a woman's makeup, the green eyed man hated it with a passion but allowed it considering this wasn’t supposed to be his part from the beginning. He reminded himself not to be the snarky typical actor that most people become once they get comfortable in the spotlight and in the business, the type of people who start ordering others around until they get what they want. Luckily for Arthur, every bit of stage makeup he wore was meant to look natural, with the exception of some things.

After Arthur was completed Alfred was also brought back out in another outfit just as Arthur was expecting. It was another one of those looks that he could somehow pull off. Alfred was just as shocked when Arthur was wearing a full face of makeup even if they were all light colours, and captured the confusion of his character perfectly. At first Alfred laughed because it made Arthur’s scowl look funny, but once he was done laughing, it was quite endearing and Alfred thought that he might pass out, even though he didn’t prefer it to the regular grumpy, green eyed, short, blonde, Arthur. 

Alfred casually led Arthur into the make out scene that was directed in the script, that only lasted a few seconds before it was supposed to be interrupted by Gilbert, who would just walk into the room holding some random prop.

However, the cue that Gilbert was supposed to get in order to interrupt the scene never happened. The crew was just strangely transfixed on the way that Alfred and Arthur made the scene look so perfect. Arthur’s hands were wrapped up in Alfred’s collared shirt and Alfred’s was holding his hands as he moved to kiss every part of Arthur’s mouth. They broke apart after a minute of this wondering why nobody was stopping them. Alfred pulled away, opening his eyes to see Arthur’s and the messed up lipstick all around his mouth, he laughed, and watched as Arthur did the same.

“I do happen to think you are wearing more of the lipstick than I am, Alfred.” Arthur commented, holding the same position that they were in while the scene went down. He quickly pulled away when he realised that they were in a room full of starstruck people. The room then started in a slow rumble of clapping, started by none other than Marc. 

“Arthur!” Marc started, talking through the clapping that would hopefully die down. Arthur was deadly confused and red in the face as the director walked up to them with a smile. “That was perfect! And to think you didn’t even want to do it!” 

“Well– I–” Arthur pulled his hands from Alfred’s as they were starting to cramp in their held up position.

“You didn’t want to?” Alfred asked, a hint of sadness and confusion mixed in his voice. As the rumble had died down, Arthur started wiping the wax tasting lipstick from around his mouth. 

“At first, no. I thought it, um, would be a little strange! Yes, that is why.” Arthur was normally a wonderful actor, but the stuttering state that he was in wasn’t helping. 

“Do it again then!” Marc interrupted and walked back to his director's chair. “TAKE TWO.” 

Anri fixed both of their faces with a large smile and sent them back to the set. 

Alfred still had a look on his face that gave him the same crumpled lines that Arthur usually had. When Arthur initiated the kiss first, before he pressed his lips to Alfred’s, he quietly whispered in Alfred’s ear, “That was before now.” The man’s face lit up immediately after and they began to get used to each other’s lips on one another's again before Gilbert flung the door open and said a few lines, that came out in a jumble. He laughed casually and turned around to do it again. Alfred figured that Gilbert was just messing with him, but if he was, he didn't mind at all. 

It was one more wardrobe change and scene before Marc said they would call it quits for the day. 

Francis and Gilbert were in this scene together with a huge bunch of people, including Alfred and Arthur. The extras weren’t there to begin with, but it at least doubled the amount of people in the room. The set they were on now was a large part of the main production. Now everybody that needed to be there was and waited to start their parts. Alfred and Arthur were dressed up already and waited for their cue to begin. 

It was sometime after dark, probably around eight or nine, and not one of the blondes had seen a clock since that morning, not even on their lunch break, which had been filled with a bunch of other people talking and going on about different things they might have been dreading. Most hated the dancing parts more than the speaking parts. Save for a few, such as Lovino, his brother, and the Spaniard.

Marc finally gave the cue to Alfred and Arthur who had been led to a side of the building, just behind a column. Their only role was to kiss like their lives depended on it. Arthur decided that it was no problem, the American didn’t seem to have a problem either, if only the media could see them now. 

Whatever was going on around them ceased to exist. Arthur let Alfred explore his mouth as he casually bit the other man’s bottom lip. Both of Arthur’s hands were on the sides of Alfred’s tanned face, as Alfred’s were under Arthur’s arms holding either side of him. 

There was a part when Francis was going to see them and go up to stop them, as it was part of the script. Albeit there was a screw up that occurred during this point, that being that when Francis got up to the same floor they were on in the performance area, neither Arthur nor Alfred pulled away. Francis waited around for a few seconds when he realised that they would need another take on that part. The camera had caught them as well and was still going as it followed Francis back down to the main floor. 

Alfred then continued to slide behind Arthur’s back to the ties of a corset and started to untie it. Arthur pulled away, noticing that he was willingly kissing the American that he didn’t even want to kiss in the first place. Alfred looked ridiculous, however, it made the situation that they were in less awkward when Arthur forced Alfred off of him, figuring that they had already missed their cue. 

Arthur pulled away from Alfred and looked to the ground floor with a hard red tint to his cheeks, he saw that many people were staring up at where they were behind the support beam. 

“Take Two!” Alfred called making sure that his own face wasn’t a shade of any colour beside its normal colour. Down below everybody scrambled as they went to set up the part again.

“Just so that doesn’t happen again, give me a signal.” 

“What makes you think that might happen again?” Arthur asked with a tone and a raised eyebrow. 

“You seemed pretty into it.” Alfred smirked and pushed Arthur against the pole again. 

“I was not anything of the sort, sod off.” Arthur grumbled and waited for the call, “You know what I will give you a signal.” Arthur nodded uncrossing his arms to put on Alfred’s face again when Marc called the scene. 

After a good couple minutes of it, Arthur let Alfred take full control of his lips and mouth as he listened for Francis to make his way up the stairs. He knew that he would have a camera in tow that was lifted onto a stand that would rise to the second floor and capture the scene above. 

Sensing that everything was in place, Arthur casually pinched Alfred’s ass, to which he definitely pulled away with an irritated look that Arthur noted didn’t look lovely on him. Arthur then continued to shoo Alfred away and waited for his part with Francis, who delivered quite a performance for the part. 

It was midnight when all the costumes were put away, the makeup was off, and Arthur was denying anything he felt as he tried to find Alfred in a crowd of people that were talking about the next day's plans.

The smiley American saw the pale blonde out of the corner of his eye and stopped talking to walk over to Arthur–who had a sour face on, although unintentionally. Everyone turned their heads to look at the pair, Alfred waved them off and put his hands on Arthur's shoulders, pushing him out of the room. 

“What was that about?” Arthur asked as Alfred walked into the dark parking lot opening his car in the meantime. 

“What?” asked the oblivious American man. 

“You know you could’ve stayed and talked to them right, I’d have waited.”

  
“Well, I left that conversation because they were all talking about our interview yesterday.” Alfred started, opening the passenger door for Arthur, who gave him a look for it.

“In other words, you mean that the media twisted our words?” 

Alfred nodded, Arthur scowled and changed the subject. “You can tell me all about it later.” Arthur then considered his next words carefully. “I need you to take me home.” 

“What!? Why?!” Alfred had a full face of fear, but before Arthur could even explain anything Alfred nearly went hysterical, “Did he say something to you? Should I kick his ass?” Alfred was in full panic and Arthur was sure that he was about to pull the car over. 

“No, No, Alfred I just need you to take me there so I can get extra clothing, since you seem so hell bent on keeping me at your house.” 

“Oh. Okay. Where is it?” He calmed exponentially, though Arthur could see he was still worried.

Arthur then spent the next forty minutes trying to explain that it was only eight minutes from Alfred’s own house. Arthur couldn’t tell if he was being stupid or was just terrible at directions. Either way they made it. 

“Ooh Artie, can I come in?” Alfred asked, looking at the large classic white mansion. 

“There will be no need for that.” Arthur stopped looking farther into the darkness of the turn around driveway before continuing, “If I am not back in twenty minutes come looking for me, my bedroom is the fourth on the top floor.” 

Alfred nodded and watched Arthur walk into his own house like some secret agent, all while he admired the outside of the house and wondered what the inside was like. The facade was like a house out of a movie that he was once in, it was almost like the white house just not quite that big but still huge nonetheless. He could hear the sounds of a waterfall in the back of the house that probably fell into the pool and he could see the lights that flowed from behind the house. It was at least three stories high and was decorated like it was from the Victorian era of England, Alfred understood why Arthur had it now. 

Arthur, on the other hand was barely breathing as he snuck around his own house, he knew from the Rolls Royce outside the house that his manager was in the house and at the very least was absolutely livid at the Brit. But Arthur figured that his manager should have never had a hold on his life to begin with. He saw that now and for once in the past few years he had actually tasted freedom thanks to Alfred.

Arthur quietly slipped off his shoes and set them near the door so they wouldn’t make a sound on the wood. Arthur was convinced that the man, known as his manager, had long been asleep as he sauntered over to his fairly large closet and threw open a few suitcases. He piled one thing after another into the cases until three of them were full, recalling that Alfred had said that he should get whatever he can. Once there were no more suitcases left to pack and everything that was essential was packed, Arthur shut off the light and opened the door to make his way out of the room.

What he didn’t expect was to see another figure standing at the door, it was a large build and broad shoulders.

At first Arthur thought it was just Alfred, but he soon recognised him as someone else, another person that sent a different type of chills down his spine. 

The Brit’s immediate reaction was to try and grab his phone out of his pocket and get a hold of Alfred—who was currently sitting in his car waiting for the England native—who was now struggling against the man’s grab for his phone and himself.

“Where the hell have you been?” His voice was always raspy almost as if it was something you might find in a different dimension. He stood over Arthur like he was a rag doll and easily grabbed him, throwing both him and the phone to the floor then grabbing Arthur and balling a fist, making sure to hold Arthur’s arms away so they couldn’t protect him. The man was yelling nonsense at Arthur, who just tried to deny everything and keep the tears from spilling out.

Outside was a different story, Alfred smiled as he held his phone to his ear, Matthew had called saying something about heading to their home state of New York, even though they had adopted Matt from Canada the man still viewed New York as his home just like Alfred did, despite the fact that he lived on the complete other coast of the country, he made plans in his head to visit whenever they had a break from filming. 

“Tell Mom and Dad that I’ll be there when I can and not to worry about me, I am an adult after all.” Alfred laughed. 

“Pfft” Matthew snorted over the phone. “Sometimes I wonder about th-”

“Uh, Matt I gotta go. I’ll call ya later.” Alfred said slowly, bringing the phone away from his ear as he listened to muffled sounds from inside the house. 

“Al?” Matthew tried saying before Alfred threw his phone down onto the seat and ran into the house that was already opened, since Arthur had left it that way. 

Alfred would never be prepared for what he saw next. 


	9. “Has movie stars, liquor stores, and soft decay, the rumbling from distant shores sends me to sleep…”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Turn on channel four.” Matthew suggested quickly. 
> 
> It was simply a news reporter standing in front of Arthur’s house with a stern look on her face, around her were various police cars and flashing lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title From Heroin by Lana Del Rey. 
> 
> This chapter is so incredibly long its ridiculous. I can fully recall that it gave me hella problems when I was trying to edit it a few weeks ago, so if anything is weird or crappy, sorry.

**Chapter Nine:** Broken

As Alfred walked into the house he could hear the sounds of Arthur trying to say something which was painful enough to hear by itself, on top of that was the faint sound of things breaking and struggling. Alfred’s heart dropped as he carefully made his way to the top floor grabbing a hard wooden chair in the process. Arthur hadn’t said too much about his manager, but according to pictures on the internet he was a big burly guy that should have been on the security detail instead of playing the role of a manager. In every picture on the internet, Arthur was standing next to him looking like a ventriloquist puppet and was often looking down, though his expression was unreadable most of the time.

The sounds got louder as he neared the room, he couldn’t tell which was louder though the sound of his terrified heartbeat or Arthur yelling for the other to stop. 

“Stop.” Was all Arthur could urge himself to say, but it did nothing, it wouldn't stop no matter what he tried. Alfred, on the outside of the room, had heard Arthur’s weak and forced cry but also continued to hear the ripping sound of something else.

Arthur thought it wouldn’t stop. He had lost all hope when he realised that it surely hadn’t even been close to twenty minutes but he could be entirely wrong this could have been going on since a second ago from all he could tell. The dark haired man had ended up finding a new form of fun is his leather belt that was currently tearing through Arthur back and sides, he knew that he was trying to hold back those salty tears that he hated so much, but it just couldn’t help it, everything hurt too badly. Eventually he just gave up and let the man his way with him. He let his small body go numb and lifeless letting his manager continuously hit and scrap him with whatever was lying around. 

Alfred, at the same time let the hardwood smash onto the man’s head, Arthur could only watch as his manager's face lost all consciousness as he fell forward. Alfred then had no idea what to do besides step over the body and pick Arthur up and set him on his own bed. 

“Artie?” Alfred tried. “Arthur.”

  
Arthur was drowned by the sound of his own tears and the continuous vile and harsh language that the man who had been standing above him a few seconds earlier had said. He could feel the blood that was like water defiling the back of his torn shirt as he sobbed into Alfred's neck. 

“Hold on a second.” Alfred reached for Arthur’s phone that was on the ground that, out of some miracle, wasn’t broken. “I’ll call the-” 

“No, don’t!” Arthur took Alfred’s hand and looked out to the floor where his manager had fallen, “Call them once we get back to your’s, the media doesn’t need to know anything.” 

Alfred carried Arthur down to his car and set the other in the front seat before going in again making sure to grab yet another chair just in case, so he could grab the rest of Arthur’s things. Alfred came back down a minute or so later carrying all these cases like they were a feather and set them all in the trunk of the car that luckily wasn’t a sports car this time. 

Arthur sniffled the whole way through the ride he was turned away from Alfred and only looked out the window. When they got back, Alfred set him on the couch before running over to his room to get the supplies needed to patch Arthur up. Neither the American nor British man said anything the entire time, even when Arthur let out choked cries when Alfred put rubbing alcohol on the deep slashes. 

Alfred had called the police twenty minutes ago making up a story that there was a break in at Arthur’s address. Not even a minute later, the silence that Arthur and Alfred had been sharing was interrupted by the shrill of Alfred’s phone ringing. 

“Alfred?!” Matthew's voice on the other end sounded horrified. Alfred hadn’t checked or seen his own phone since he ran in to get Arthur, even when he called the cops he used Arthur’s own phone. 

“What’s up, dude?” Alfred asked, letting Arthur shift in his arm that was cradling the British man that was watching the television.    
  


“Are you and Arthur okay?” He asked warily and slightly confused. 

“Yeah, why?” Alfred asked, leaning back on the couch. 

“Turn on channel four.” Matthew suggested quickly. 

It was simply a news reporter standing in front of Arthur’s house with a stern look on her face, around her were various police cars and flashing lights. 

“Nearly twenty minutes ago the LAPD received an anonymous call saying that there was a break in at actor Arthur Kirkland’s house at close to one in the morning. A suspect was found at the scene, but details of him are not being disclosed. We do know that he is currently under arrest and is being taken to the jail. The whereabouts of Mr. Kirkland are still unknown other than what the media has been saying about Arthur staying with ‘Actor Alfred F. Jones’. 

The pair listened with wide eyes for a second before Alfred put his phone back to his ear to hear Matthew breathing again. “You see what I mean, Al?” 

“Yeah bro, but everything's fine.” 

“You sure? You didn’t pick up when I called a few minutes ago.” 

“Yeah, just busy that’s all. Arthur is great too!” Alfred said, clearly acting out the part as he rubbed his hand along the length of Arthur’s arm to calm the other. “I’ve got to go again, I’ll call you if something comes up. Kay? Bye.” 

“Bye.” Matthew ended, knowing that something was up, something that made him want to fly back to California just to figure out what. Maybe he would have Francis do something about it. 

Alfred directed all of his attention back to Arthur, who was burying his face into Alfred’s shoulder. “Thank you.” His voice was a bit broken but clear. 

“No problem, Artie.” Alfred smiled and shifted so that Arthur lay on top of him and not on his back. 

Alfred decided something in that moment, if he was going to head back to New York like Matthew had talked about then Arthur Kirkland was coming with him. 

At the time of two-thirty in the morning Alfred picked Arthur up from on top of him and gave him a lift back to his room. He carefully set the shorter down on the bed, and went to the other side to do the exact same thing. 

Early in the morning Alfred woke to a knock on his front door, he quickly put on a shirt and opened the door to see Francis, who had a face of shock and fear mixed into one. “Is Angleterre here?” 

“I don’t know?” Alfred left it at that. 

“Oh please, Americain! I need to know if Arthur is okay. His house is not.” Francis pleaded, but Alfred wouldn’t let him into the house. 

“He’s fine Francy-pants, but I highly doubt that you're the first person that he wants to see.” Alfred watched Francis face turn to relief. 

“Bein, but  Amérique make sure Angleterre is well taken care of while I make an excuse for you two down at the studio.” Francis smiled and winked as his heeled shoes clicked on the pavement.

“'Kay, dude.” Alfred made his way back to the bedroom to see Arthur awake and out of bed, standing in front of a mirror. Arthur turned around a few times before he noticed Alfred leaning against the door frame watching him.

“How ya doin’, Artie?” Alfred asked, walking to sit on the bed behind the mirror that Arthur was currently straightening his clothing in front of. 

“Fine. Do you happen to have any pain killers?” Arthur asked, turning to meet Alfred’s glassed eyes, an accessory he had put on seconds ago after he opened the door for Francis. 

  
“Yeah, come on.” Alfred tugged lightly on the shirt that Arthur fell asleep in. Arthur followed behind him carefully, holding on to the American for dear life. 

“Who was at the door?” Arthur asked, sitting down at the kitchen island. 

“Francis.” 

“Oh bugger, what did he want?” Arthur asked with a frown, though that was changed when Alfred slid a cup of tea, that wasn’t maple flavored, in front of Arthur, along with two pain killers that he greedily took while listening to Alfred talk. 

“He, first off, wanted to know if you were okay.” Arthur cringed at the talk of Francis so early in the morning even when the man was still one of his best friends. “It was probably because Matt said something to him or that news broadcast last night, but he said he would cover for us at set.”   
  


“That’s nice. At least it wasn’t an important rehearsal. It’s just Francis and that Prussian singing something and then a few things that we could get in seconds.” Arthur remembered, starting a conversation with Alfred. 

Alfred frowned, “Damn, I really wanted to see that.” 

“As did I.” Arthur agreed. 

Alfred faced lit up again with the thought of something. “I have an idea, Artie!” 

“Oh no, what?” Arthur asked, setting his tea down on the counter and turned his bar stool so it faced Alfred’s. 

“Mattie is in New York for the weekend with my parents, so maybe, since Francis said he would cover for us with a legitimate reason, we could go too!” Alfred looked so bright and happy. 

“We are going to be filming really soon Alfred, and I couldn’t just invade like that.” Arthur insisted. 

“Who cares?! My parents are going to love you.” Alfred smiled and jumped up from his chair, “We’ll make it a weekend trip, and we’ll take the private jet.” 

Arthur thought it sounded ridiculous, but what could two days be? They would be back Monday to start the process all over again anyway. 

“Come on, Artie! I’m not gonna leave you here and you need a vacation!” Alfred reasoned and pulled Arthur up out of his chair. 

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned his head to the side biting back another smile. “I suppose, but only if you quit calling me ‘Artie’.” 

“Ah, come on, Artie! It’s a nickname, I explained this.” Alfred said, dumping everything out of one of Arthur’s suitcases onto his bed and told the brit to pack everything he needed in it and then went to get one of his own. 

Alfred finished quickly and called Kiku to give the man a heads up. “Yo, Kiku!” 

“Yes, Alfred-san? I am already trying to clear up the interview.” Kiku started, Alfred had forgotten all about that little fiasco from Tuesday in the heat of last night. Alfred supposed that he would just explain that to Arthur on the plane. 

“Forget about that for a second, Kiku, Arthur and I are going to New York for the weekend, and Francis already gave an excuse to the set. I figured that we will start filming on Monday so this little vacation should be fine.” Alfred explained quickly, “Can you get my pilot to get the jet?” 

A few silent moments later Kiku nodded and then realised that Alfred couldn’t see him nod over the phone, “Right, Alfred-san, your pilot is at the airport already and prepared for a nonstop five hour flight to New York.” 

“Thanks, You’re the best Kiku!” Alfred exclaimed and walked out of the same room that Arthur was in. “One more thing, can you somehow sign Arthur Kirkland to be under your management?” 

Kiku was clearly surprised and confused about the topic, “I’ll need his signature, and a reason as to why he wants to switch his management. Then, I will see what I can do Alfred-san.” 

“Done. Once again, you’re awesome Kiku!” Alfred said and hung up before walking back to his bedroom where Arthur was trying to figure out which pair of pants was better. 

“I need your signature.” 

“Excuse me?” Arthur asked, a brow lifted as he looked up to Alfred from looking at a pair of the same black pants. 

“I asked Kiku if he could switch your management under him instead.” Alfred explained, Arthur’s confused look turned into one of pure joy.

Arthur was never one to wear his emotion on his sleeve, so he had no idea why he was walking over to the American and throwing his arms around his muscular torso. Even words weren’t working for the Brit, who forced himself not to spill anymore tears even if they were for an entirely different reason.

“You’re an idiot.” Was all Arthur managed to say. 

“Thanks, Artie!” Alfred smiled as he put his chin on Arthur’s head and rocked from one side to another. 

“Hey, didn’t I say that you would not call me ‘Artie’ on this little ‘vacation’?” Arthur pulled away pouting. 

“It technically hasn’t started until we get on the plane. Which, by the way, is already ready for us.” Alfred said, grabbing his and the other’s luggage off the bed, bringing them over to the front door where Alfred’s personal butler was waiting. Alfred figured that Kiku probably called him to drive them to the airport. 

Within the next few minutes Alfred and Arthur were dressed and wearing sunglasses so that the reporters and pesky photographers might not notice them even though they were driving in a long, absolutely obvious, limousine. 

Alfred waited until he and the Englishman were at thirty thousand feet and were comfortable with a few drinks that were supplied to them from the in-flight attendant, who kept giving looks to Alfred, who tried his best to ignore her. He sat himself next to Arthur, who was reading a book that he had packed and drinking a cup of tea that he was given. Arthur eventually looked up at Alfred, who was about to speak when the blonde flight attendant barged in again. 

“Do you need anything else?” She asked Arthur and smiled at Alfred, who smiled back. 

“A pillow.” Arthur asked, hoping he could put it between himself and the leather of the airplane chair that was frankly very uncomfortable and was causing him a bit of pain. 

“Sure.” She said and turned around to go to the back of the plane. 

“You should talk to her, she seems to like you.” Arthur suggested. 

“Not my type. Plus she’s been giving me that look since we got on his thing.” Alfred scrunched his eyes that no longer had glasses covering them. 

“What is your type then?” Arthur asked as the perky blonde came back with a pillow that Arthur thanked her for and put behind his back, before turning his attention to Alfred again. The women seemed to linger for a moment possibly hoping that Alfred would continue to talk in her presence. 

“I dunno.” Alfred answered and looked back toward Arthur next to him. 

“Mmm, not very helpful to her then.” Arthur looked back to his book. “Did you want to say something beforehand?” 

“Uh yeah, I told ya that I could explain what those interviews that we did the other day happened turned out like.” 

“Oh, bother.” Arthur rolled his eyes, “But I am curious as to what shite they’ve made up.” Arthur bookmarked his place. 

“It’s nothing really.” Alfred teased.

“You started this Alfred Jones, and you are ending it.” Arthur looked angry at the other who just smiled. 

“Basically they took my offer to have you sit on my lap as if we were dating, plus you so quickly denied it, which didn’t help.” Alfred scratched the back of his neck. 

“Rubbish.” Arthur grumbled. 

“Kiku is gonna take care of it.” Alfred flashed his brilliant grin as the pilot of the plane called for Alfred to go to the cockpit. Alfred winked at Arthur, who was scared of the next few minutes of his life.

Alfred’s voice then rang through the overhead speaker, causing Arthur to look up in question at the ceiling, “Can Arthur Kirkland come to the front of the plane?” Arthur stood up and rolled his eyes, sometimes he swore he might get dizzy from the amount of times he’s done it because of the bloody American. He hid a smile and knocked on the door, only to have it opened by the pilot himself, Alfred, like the idiot he was, was flying the goddamn plane. 

“Hey Artie!” Alfred said without taking his eyes off the sky.

Arthur looked back to the pilot who was holding the door open to him with wide eyes, “Why the bloody hell are you okay with this?” 

The pilot shrugged, “He’s technically qualified.” 

“What do you mean ‘technically’?” Arthur asked, alarmed. 

“Relax Artie, like he said, I’m qualified.” Alfred said, motioning for Arthur to sit in the seat next to him.

“I don’t think so.” Arthur declared, but the pilot sat Arthur down instead. 

At first Arthur was fearful, but after an hour of being so close to the controls he felt much better with Alfred waffling on about everything and nothing. 

A few moments of silence followed after Alfred’s talking, “How did you learn to do this in the first place?” 

“Remember how I told ya that I didn’t always have terrible vision? I wanted to go into the Air Force but stuff happened.” 

“Oh.” Arthur’s face deflated.

And they left it all that. 

Arthur went back out to the cabin an hour later saying something about it being more comfortable. Alfred soon joined him and sparked up another conversation as he sat down. 

“I got bored.” 

“How does one get bored of flying an airplane?” Arthur asked quizzingly. 

“I couldn’t do a three-sixty?” Alfred smiled, earning a more than concerned look from Arthur. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

“I’ve done it before.” 

“Oh no.” 

Alfred was about to speak again when the pilot said that there were ten minutes until they touched down at some airport in New York. 

Where it would’ve been one in the afternoon in California, it was late in New York and starting to get dark when the plane finally landed. Meanwhile, Alfred and Arthur still rocked their shades even though it was night. A fancy town car, that was probably arranged by Kiku, was there to bring them to Alfred’s parents house where Matthew would also be. Arthur was, for some reason, nervous. It’s not like he was meeting Alfred’s parents because he was Alfred’s partner. He and Alfred definitely were not in a relationship, they were just actors that had shared a lovely moment on screen during a rehearsal and almost always slept in the same bed together. The American could see that Arthur was stressed and promised that they would be switching to his penthouse in the morning.

From the airport to the humble two story house in Queens, was only a few minutes. When they arrived Alfred only expected to see Matthew at the door, instead his parents pushed the Canadian out of the way and pulled Alfred into a large bear hug, which he graciously accepted. 

Arthur could see where Alfred got all of his loud and obnoxious personality from. 

“Alfie Jones you didn’t tell us you were bringing anyone!” His mother was charismatic and didn’t have a single age line on her face. His father looked just as happy, if not a little bit confused. 

“Sorry ‘bout that.” Alfred apologized and dragged Arthur into the clean house, Arthur had gone mute for a second. “This is Artie!” Arthur gave him a look. “I mean Arthur, we are doing a movie together.” 

“Are you sure that’s all, Alfie?” The smaller woman crossed her arms and looked sceptical. Arthur figured he could learn some things from this little lady. Alfred, though, had nodded at her question. 

“No lying to your Mom.” She scolded, patting the side of Alfred’s handsome face and turned to Arthur, who just stood behind Alfred. “How about you introduce yourself, hmm? I’m Amelia and he is, unfortunately, my son.” 

“Hey!” Alfred was triggered. Matthew and Alfred’s dad laughed from the kitchen. 

Arthur chuckled a little, “I’m Arthur. And he has talked me into this ‘vacation’.” Arthur quoted and looked to Alfred. He put his hand out and waited for a handshake but got a hug instead. 

“HE'S ENGLISH?!” He was sure the dirty blonde haired woman was sobbing, “Alfred you have such good taste!” 

“We aren’t datin’, Mom.” 

“Oh.” She stopped hugging Arthur and took Alfred five feet away to yell at him. 

“Geez Alfred, I would’ve thought that you would’ve been farther than this, sweep him on up, come on!” Amelia was quite loud and Arthur could still hear her, which put a pink tint of his face. 

“Anyway! Make yourself at home lovely, it’s a bit late so try to get some sleep. This is a three bedroom house so Alfred will sleep on the couch.” Amelia got straight to the point and ordered for her husband, whose name was Allen, to take Arthur’s luggage to the bedroom. 

“What about my bedroom?” Alfred raised an eyebrow. 

“That’s the guest bedroom.” 

“And the guest bedroom?” 

“That’s where Matt is staying.” Amelia answered, going up the stairs and dragging Arthur along with her. 

“Help me.” Arthur mouthed to Alfred, who just snickered and followed him up the stairs. 

Allen was already making the large bed and setting up the suitcases when Amelia had finished her house tour, “I know it’s probably not as big as your used to but-” 

“It’s lovely, Mrs. Jones.” Arthur smiled and turned around to see Alfred with a wide grin. “And what do you want, hm?”

“Nothin’.” Alfred rocked on his heels. 

“Please call me by my name Arthur and if you need anything I am in the next room.” She nodded her short curled hair and motioned to the door behind Alfred. 

“Thank you.” Arthur charmed and made his way to the bedroom that he was supposedly staying in, dragging Alfred with. He could seem from his peripheral vision that Amelia had a ‘I knew it’ look as Alfred closed the door behind him. 

Arthur was taking off his shirt. “Hey, isn’t it a little early for that?” Alfred asked with a smirk. 

“You git, this hurts like hell.” Arthur stumbled over his words seemingly out of breath. Alfred automatically sat Arthur on the bed and rushed out to the bathroom in the hall, earning a look from Amelia. 

“They are not in the medicine cabinet, Al.” She said.

“Uh, that’s not what I am looking for. I need, like, bandages and a lot of them.” Alfred had taken one look at the Englishman’s torso and panicked. It was not pretty, it was heavily bruised, which he couldn’t help, and the cuts that were trying to heal were ripped open again and the large gashes were bleeding out. 

“What is it, dear?” She saw the panic on her son’s face, and made her way to the bedroom where Arthur was, confused as to why Alfred wouldn’t tell her anything. 

“You can’t tell a soul or he’ll kill you.” Alfred was wide eyed, the woman rolled her eyes and walked into the room. Arthur was sitting crisscrossed on the bed staring down at his hands and hissing in pain every time he moved. 

“Oh no.” She was breathless and rushed out of the room to do the same thing that Alfred was doing a few seconds ago. The pair came back into the room and met Arthur, who was alarmed at the presence of Amelia, but she just smiled and held a finger to her mouth, a motion that meant that she would keep quiet about it. 

Approximately ten minutes later the mother tucked the Brit into bed and pulled Alfred into the hallway. 

“You will explain this in the morning, Alfred F. Jones.” She looked up at the taller, who was looking down at her with a face that read ‘tired and sorry’. It kind of felt like he was being sent to bed without dinner. 

Alfred crawled into bed next to Arthur, who turned around as the bed dipped, “Is she always that opened to things?” He asked. 

“Whaddya mean?” Alfred turned so that he and Arthur were facing each other. After all of the nighttime necessities were fulfilled and they knew for sure that Arthur wasn’t going to bleed out, Amelia had sent them both straight to bed. 

“I mean she just automatically assumed you were in a relationship with another man. Then she barged in here and fixed something she knew nothing about.” 

Alfred laughed, “I guess. That’s sort of how she’s always worked, she’s always been caring.” Arthur gave a rare smile and nonchalantly scooted closer to be warmer next to Alfred. 

“Mmm.” Arthur agreed and let Alfred wrap an arm around him, Alfred didn’t seem to mind that he was wearing a shirt that he stole from Alfred’s bag. 

Arthur didn’t think that he would get used to waking up next to someone that wasn’t Francis, however, time and time again he woke up to Alfred’s face that had lines from the sheets and the indent of his glasses on his nose, it was quite charming in the Englishman's opinion, and was something he got used to surprisingly easily. Initially, waking up next to him was still a shock and he always checked to see if his clothing was still on his body, with the exception of some that were impossible to sleep in such as pants or socks. Alfred didn’t seem to mind the Brit's habits that much. 

Currently, Arthur was in a dilemma, he could either get up now and get dressed and say ‘hello’ to everyone downstairs and possibly make an awkward conversation, or wait until the zonked out American woke up. 

Arthur didn’t have time to decide when there was a light knock on the door and Alfred shifted to put his head on the shoulder of Arthur, who had his back to Alfred’s chest. Arthur opted for acting as if he was asleep when the door opened and let a large portion of sunlight in. He heard a slight squeal that could be none other than Amelia herself. Arthur made sure to stay perfectly still while still breathing even though he was in pain, Alfred wasn’t touching his back that much so it couldn’t have been the cause for it. 

“Five more minutes.” Alfred turned some degrees and lifted an arm into the air when he recognised his mother’s presence in the doorway.

“Silly! You are out of school already.” She was a charming human being herself and had the friendliest laugh. 

“Oh. G’night then.” Alfred said, not even opening his eyes the whole time as he turned back to cuddle Arthur. 

“But dear I am sure that Arthur would like to get up.” Arthur hadn’t realised that he had opened his eyes and put on a closed lipped smile until the woman in pastel had said something. 

“Oh.” Was all Alfred had to say, “OH! Hi Artie!” Alfred had his eyes opened now and was looking at Arthur, who twisted a bit just to see Alfred’s face. He heard Amelia giggle from inside the room, he figured that she was doing her motherly duty and straightening up the room, seeing as Alfred couldn’t keep it clean for the life of him.

“Actually yes, I would very much like to get up.” Arthur declared and fiddled with Alfred’s fingers underneath the covers. Alfred laughed and played back.

“That’s not funny Alfred, it's warm under this duvet and I am quite famished.” Arthur put on a look of distaste. 

Amelia was giggling in the corner as she spread open the white curtains in the room, to which Alfred was not too happy about and stuck his head back into Arthur’s pale neck. 

“I thought I said five more minutes.” 

“And I thought I said Arthur wanted to get up.” Amelia roasted. Alfred gave up and let Arthur sit up. 

“Thank you Mrs– Amelia.” Arthur remembered. The woman smiled.

“I have breakfast downstairs whenever you are ready. Matthew has already left to go to the area and Allen has gone to work.” She notified and left the room.

Arthur stood up on the bed and noticed that his trousers sat on the ground, and Alfred lied in bed looking up at Arthur. “Honestly Alfred, you keep staring at me as if I were a piece of meat.” 

“Oh, I can’t see anything right now.” Alfred laughed leaving Arthur with an amused face, he sat down on the side of the bed and held a hand in front of Alfred’s face. 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Arthur asked with a hint of a smile. 

“Three hot dogs.” Alfred grinned and sat himself up to find his glasses until he could see Arthur who was a foot in front of him. ‘

“Not even close, Alfred.” Arthur shook his head and stood up, gathering what he needed to step into the shower. Alfred was still in bed when he finished and Amelia was hitting him with a pillow and trying to pull him out of bed by his pants. 

“This is how it normally goes.” Amelia laughed and looked at Arthur, “They just grow up so fast, seeing as he was taller than me when he was in the eighth grade, but now though I have a professional Hockey player and a multi-million dollar actor, and they both still act like teenagers.” 

Arthur gave a small smile and adjusted his day time clothes. 

“How do you get him up?” She wondered, dropping Alfred’s pant leg as he dozed with his head under a pillow. 

“He usually does it by himself I presume, or I have to yell or slap him in his face.” Arthur almost felt uncomfortable with his accent in a house full of Americans and a Canadian. 

“Mind demonstrating?” 

“I’ll see what I can do.” Arthur nodded and sat down next to Alfred and lifted the pillow. “Wake up you bloody idiot.” Arthur mildly yelled, causing Alfred to open an eye that was being squashed by his glasses which looked utterly ridiculous, Arthur couldn’t help himself and laughed.

“Now all you need is an under-bite and you might look like a bulldog!” Arthur sat with his arms crossed over his chest, momentarily forgetting that Alfred’s mother was standing at the end of the bed.

“Not nice, Artie.” Alfred received a look from Arthur about the name and corrected himself, “Arthur.” 

“Now get your bum up, your mum cooked breakfast.” Alfred fully perked up at the word breakfast. 

“Why didn’t ya say so?” 

“I have many times Alfred.” Amelia spoke up now holding a majority of Alfred’s pants that apparently she hadn’t given up on waking him up with. 

Alfred met Arthur and his mother in the kitchen when he finally pulled himself up, he hadn't bothered to put in his contacts considering he was miles away from the Californian paparazzi and they weren’t directly located in the city of New York. Arthur and Amelia had made small talk about different types of tea when the cheerful lady asked what he would like to drink. 

“Tell me Arthur, have you been in New York before?” She had asked while turning away to the toaster device. 

“Once or twice, but it was both for work.” Arthur explained. 

“Work?” 

“Films.” Arthur specified as he stood behind the counter waiting for Alfred to come down. 

“And Alfie had said that you two were working on a  _ film _ , was that right?” Amelia smiled emphasising the word  _ film  _ instead of saying movie. “I really love your English words.”

“Thank you.” Arthur smiled, nodding at the lady’s silly antics. 

“Matthew said Alfred had been ranting about the movie to him but never said what it was about.”

“We are not supposed to discuss it until our producer gives permission and the trailers and legal issues are sorted through.” Arthur didn’t like to talk much, but Amelia was like his own Mother and seemed incredibly lovely to talk too. 

“Does that take long? I get excited easily.” 

“I sure hope not.” Alfred said, bounding down the stairs looking less like a bulldog and more like himself. He gave his mom a hug from behind and leaped over to Arthur to do the same thing. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

“Too late.” 

“Ow.” Arthur acted as if it were an excuse to get Alfred off of him. Alfred automatically pulled away and Amelia turned around as she also finished her breakfast making. 

“I hate to ask but would you mind explaining that?” She asked, bringing everything over to the table.

“It’s a long story, Mom.” Alfred said, his spectacled eyes casted downward. 

“We have time unless you plan to take Arthur somewhere.” The curly haired lady sat at the table next to the two blondes that had gone quiet. 

“Actually I was.” 

“Oh?” Arthur turned his head at that. 

“We were going to go to my apartment.” 

“Aw, I thought you would’ve stayed longer, but that doesn’t mean you can get out of telling me what happened.” Amelia was almost thrown off topic before she remembered that she needed to know. 

Arthur finished his meal and stood up to take his plate to the sink. “I can do that sweetheart. But please tell me what's going on.” Arthur nodded and bent down to Alfred who listened intently as Arthur whispered into his ear. 

“You can tell her, but I’d rather not be in the room.” Alfred shook his head and gave a small smile to the Brit, who was headed upstairs to repack his things since apparently they were going to be heading to Alfred’s penthouse in Manhattan. Arthur sat intently on the bed with a book when there was a small ‘meow’ at the door. Arthur was captured when he saw the small cream coloured cat walk into the room. The cat immediately jumped onto the bed struggling a little because of it’s small size.

When it did, it brushed up against Arthur a few times so that he could pet it. It was as adorable and sweet as the owners of the house. The British man spent his time lying on the bed on his stomach petting the creature with alluring red eyes, it was nothing like the creatures back home, though there were flying green bunnies and unicorns that nobody believed him about. 

Arthur was then distracted from his thoughts when a plate or glass dropped, he figured it was just a mishap and continued making the cat purr. A sum of time later, Alfred appeared in the door with his lips in a straight line until he saw Arthur petting the little cat with a hand propped on his arm and his bare feet kicking behind him. Arthur stopped when he saw Alfred and the cat jumped up realising that Arthur was indeed not his owner and the taller blonde with a strange antenna hair was. 

“I think Tony missed me.” Alfred said, picking up the cat in his arms and cradling it like a child. The cat was just minding his own business and reaching up to play with Alfred’s other hand. 

“I think so as well.” Arthur felt the bed sink as Alfred sat down, Arthur moved to sit next to him. He was looking down at the cat with a hint of sadness in his eyes behind his glasses. “That didn’t go well, I take it?” Arthur didn’t like seeing the American that way. 

“She understands, but started tearing up halfway through, I don’t like seein’ people sad, ya know?” Alfred turned his head toward Arthur. 

Arthur could only nod, he still felt bad even though she was the one who was curious to know. 

They hadn’t stayed too much longer after that, of course, they had said their goodbyes to Amelia, who now didn’t have a tear in her eye. Alfred had also told her that they might not make it back to her house before they had to leave again, and if they didn’t then he would have to call her. 

Alfred had gotten another town car saying that, “They have tinted windows, and it’s fast and affordable.” To which Arthur rolled his eyes at. Alfred told the driver to make a few stops before they actually went to the house. 

The two were dressed in their sunglasses and were walking the street, Alfred had just made the excuse that there was next to nothing in the apartment so they would go shopping like an old married couple. Arthur had strictly stated that they were not. 

Everything was fine until they finished their shopping trip and left everything in the car with the driver. Alfred had thought that it would be a good idea to give Arthur a quick tour of the city. Just like LA, there were people everywhere you looked, it was a panic attack waiting to happen. 

“So what is there to do in New York when all the nightclubs are closed?” Arthur asked, walking shoulder and shoulder with Alfred because it was all the crowds would allow. 

“We don’t talk about that.” 

“Wha-” 

“Shh, we don’t speak of it.” Alfred laughed and stopped at the bustling crosswalk, Arthur stopped right after him. Alfred smiled, now that Arthur was fully confused. Eventually he did explain that it was an old joke between his old group of friends.

They were somewhere near Central Park when Alfred thought it would be a good idea to take off his sunglasses and drag Arthur into the park to walk under what Alfred had once thought were, “the only trees in New York”. Arthur rolled his eyes and took off his own sunglasses, seeing as there weren't too many people around them and the plastic of the frames were getting sweaty on his face, the tree cover was also just enough to keep the sun off their eyes. 

Alfred pulled him down behind a few trees in the park so that they could chill for a second. Arthur didn’t know at the time that when Alfred put his arm out for him to use as a pillow that everything would go down hill. 

Alfred and Arthur casually talked about random things or how Alfred had gone into too much detail when explaining things to his Mother. Now apparently Alfred's lovely Mum knew that Arthur was a male wearing a corset through most of their film. Arthur had just groaned and covered his face.

“I panicked.” Alfred defended. 

“You're an idiot.” 

“I’m not too sure that’s a nickname, Artie.” Alfred was bringing back the nicknames as Arthur had directly told him not too, but at this point in their name calling neither one seemed to notice or care too much anymore. 

Arthur’s phone started ringing in that moment, not to his surprise it was Francis, Arthur inwardly just wanted to chuck the phone across the park and just stay close to Alfred and do nothing. However, he answered it anyway. 

“Arthur!” Francis' cheery voice answered, Arthur groaned and put the phone to his ear. Alfred lied next to him smiling at the tree tops. 

“What could you possibly want, Francis?” Arthur tried his best to sound fed up. 

“Oh, mon ami, am I interrupting something?” His French tongue would be impossible to understand over the phone if Arthur hadn’t known him for so long. 

“No, get to the point.” 

“See I was at your house, and then Alfred’s this morning and the lovely housekeeper said that you and Amerique had left the day before.” Francis paused. “But she didn’t say where.” 

“I am on vacation.” Arthur looked over to Alfred, who was trying so hard not to make himself known. 

“VACATION!? Angleterre, why didn’t you tell me! I would’ve come with you!” Francis amused. 

“I much prefer it like this.” Arthur decided, switching the device to his other ear so that he could make it harder for Alfred to laugh into the cell phone. 

“Where are you, mon ami? We start filming on Monday, I hope your ‘vacation’ doesn’t last too long~” 

“Piss off, Francis.” Arthur hung up on the Frenchman deciding that he had had enough of him for the day. He was sure that Alfred was just enough obnoxious for him. Alfred was chuckling at the Brit again. 

“What was that about?” Alfred asked, turning his head to the side to see Arthur’s green eyes and tinted cheeks when he realised the proximity of their faces. 

Arthur composed himself, “It was Francis telling me useless shit.” 

“That’s just Francis. Here’s an idea; how about we make our own sit-com and call it, “That’s just Francis™.” 

“And what would we do on this sit-com?” 

“Stuff that Francis does, like go to places casually in high heels.” 

“I’ve already done that before.” Arthur remembered earning a lengthy rant from Alfred whose eyes were as wide as tennis balls, as he talked about how he and the green eyed man should do that some time.

“How far is your flat from here?” Arthur asked, when the talkative American had stopped speaking for a moment. 

“Flat?” The blue eyed questioned and shifted his arm so that some of it was touching Arthur’s own arm and his back was flat against the ground so that Arthur’s wasn’t. 

“God, you are so American.” 

“Born and raised, baby.” The American prided. 

“Oh, don’t start. A flat is an apartment.” 

“It is so hard to say?” Alfred, at this moment, along with Arthur didn’t know that their spot just off the main walkway under the trees wasn’t as secluded as they thought it was. Apparently there was a crowd of people gathering behind them with cameras and phones waiting for them to turn around and prove that it was none other than the two Hollywood actors. 

“Well no, but it’s just the way I say it so sod off, would you?” Arthur finished and expected Alfred to say something in return but he was distracted by something behind them. It was a large group of people that was getting bigger by the minute, somehow they didn’t notice it the whole time. 

“Artie, put on the sunglasses quickly and stand up like everything is normal 'kay?” 

“Shite.” Arthur did as Alfred said.

The American put his own sunglasses, prescription ones so that he didn’t have to put his glasses on while walking outside. They slowly walked shoulder to shoulder again and pretended to chat about something while the crowd continued to stalk them through the streets. 

“Remember when you asked me a few minutes ago how far away it was?” 

“Of Course. Now please tell me that it is not a million kilometres away from here.” Arthur chided. 

“‘Course not.” Alfred gave a wry laugh, “It is roughly a few blocks though.” 

“Bloody hell, Alfred.” Arthur coughed.

“It's just two blocks this way, one left turn, and then we’re there.” 

For the next fifteen minutes they carefully dodged people and photographers on different streets that were trying to cut them off and get pictures, the same way people did in Los Angeles, which neither Arthur nor Alfred wanted. The Brit and the American were sure that everyone around them was either trying to take pictures or trying to find out where Alfred and supposedly Arthur were staying. The blue eyed man realised that it was the worst day to lay off the security detail, even though they were already outside his penthouse where he left them with the town car earlier. He usually felt like it was too much, it was like he was president that needed three different black armored cars to follow him wherever he went. 

The guards that were posted outside the building saw them coming with a mob from a mile away, there were even cars lining up to see if they could get their own reports. The detail ushered the two inside the lobby as best as they could, but there were always stragglers that were able to get through some of the security team and were able to take pictures as the lift doors closed. 

Once they got inside is when things started going downhill. 

“Bollocks.” Arthur breathed trying to catch his breath, the pain from his back was coming back again as well, but just supposed that it was from the painkillers wearing off. 

“What?” Alfred said, catching his own breath quicker than Arthur was getting his. 

“It’s hard to breathe.” 

“Aw, it’s just cause you're not in as good a shape as me, Artie and we just ran three blocks.” Alfred reasoned and walked over to Arthur, whose chest was moving up and down unsteadily. Once again, Alfred was put into a state of panic and laid Arthur on his back, bringing his shirt over his head to see a violent dark purple bruise that was around the right side of Arthur’s rib cage. 

Alfred automatically went to his phone that housed his Mother’s phone number. Amelia had been a nurse for some time when Alfred was little and continued to be when he moved to California to start acting. She picked up in a matter of seconds. 

Alfred’s voice trembled as he listened to his Mother on the other side of the phone. “What is it, Alfie?” 

“Well Ar-Arthur’s been occasionally coughing, but I thought it was just ‘cause he had a cold or something, but we recently had to run from some photographs and when we got here he complained for a second that he couldn’t breath. When I checked his injuries there was a shitty bruise on his rib-cage thing.” Alfred just spoke gibberish but somehow his Mother was able to understand him. 

“What is he doing now, Alfie?” Alfred turned to see Arthur. 

“He’s just coughing and lightly holding his side.” Alfred was a tiny bit relieved when he heard her speak lightly to other people at her work and gather a few things until there was the sound of a door opening on the other end and she started talking again. 

“Just make sure he can still breath, I will be there in a few minutes.” 

“Be careful mom, there’s a bunch of people gathered outside of the house. My security should be out there though, just tell them you're my Mom.” 

“Okay dear.” Amelia hung up quickly and Alfred threw his phone on the coffee table and walked over to Arthur who was wheezing on the couch. 

“Hey Artie.” Alfred kneeled down by the couch, Arthur was staring straight up at the ceiling with his lips parted slightly. 

“You’re okay, right?” 

“No, you bloody idiot.” Arthur tried saying and immediately regretted it when he started coughing again. “Ow.” 

Not even ten minutes later, Amelia walked into the room with a huff and dropped her bag onto the floor and ran over to the couch, where she started ordering Alfred around to do different things. 

Alfred was now at the refrigerator packing ice into a cloth and watching over his shoulder as his Mother babied Arthur like he was her own son. He brought back the ice and gave it to Amelia who, at some point, sat Arthur up and told him to press a pillow to his chest if he needed to cough and keep ice on it most of the time. She stood to her full height that was where Alfred’s biceps started. 

“I think one of his ribs might be fractured a few days ago….as you had explained.” She looked down. “Keep ice on it, let him sleep, and please don’t put him in any corsets.” 

“Please don’t.” Arthur echoed, causing Alfred to smile. 

“No promises, Artie.” 

“Alfred Jones!” Amelia said, smacking Alfred in the arm, “Leave him alone, he’s been through enough. I have to go back to work soon but if you need anything call me.” 

“No prob, Mom.” 

“Good. And don’t try leaving this sky-house thing, it is a mess down there and they won’t stop screaming for you and Arthur to come back down so they can get pictures.” 

“I’ll come with you.” Alfred offered.

“Did you not just hear what I said, Alfred?” She scolded and swatted him again, “I am perfectly capable and the security team offered to take me to my car.”

“Okay.” Alfred backed off.

“Cuddle with him or something, keep him comfortable, nothing more nothing less, no matter how stubborn he is.” Alfred was walking her to the bag she dropped in the process. 

“He hates that.” Alfred raised a perfect eyebrow, as he followed her to the elevator door. 

“No, he doesn’t.” She whispered, making sure that the British man couldn’t hear them, she laughed a little and reached up and pressed a kiss to Alfred’s cheek that he had to lean down for. 

Alfred was a little dumbfounded when she finally pressed the button inside the lift that closed the doors and made the swift noises to lower to the first floor. 

“Any better?” Alfred asked again, this time getting an answer.    
  


“Probably.” Arthur set his head back on the back of the white couch. Alfred laughed again and continued to take in the words that his mom had said about Arthur not actually hating cuddles.

“She said that it was possibly fractured from the other night but we only noticed it now because we had to run.” Alfred had recited some words that Dr. Mom had said a little earlier. 

“Sound’s likely.” 

“Yeah. She also said to give you lots of cuddles.” Alfred said, taking the arm that was set on top of the couch under Arthur’s head and wrapping it around his shoulder.

“I’d rather you not. Breathing is not in my best ability right now.” Arthur said, leaning himself in to have his head in the crook of Alfred’s head and shoulder. 

“Aw.” Alfred complained and reached with his other hand to carefully pull Arthur off of the couch and bridal style in arms to the over-sized bedroom that he forgot was in the penthouse. It was a house that Alfred didn’t regularly use and even he was taken away by the elegance of it. Alfred could tell that Arthur liked it, the room had a television across from the king sized bed and a chandelier in the middle of the ceiling. The complete opposite wall was a glass pane of windows overlooking the city. 

“You have lovely taste, Alfred.” Arthur commented when he was set down on the bed and crawled to be closer to the window that overlooked the city. 

“I know right!” Alfred was happy with his pick that he decided on so long ago before he moved across the country. 

“I’ll make something from what he got earlier.” Alfred left the room and cooked something random before finding Arthur fast asleep in the sheets. Alfred quickly joined the British man, considering that this was a proper vacation where they would get the sleep the whole time, if they wanted.


	10. “I want to know just how to love you, the jewel of California…”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey Alfred? Do you know what material this is?” Arthur asked, letting Alfred touch the shirt.
> 
> “What? No? Why would-”
> 
> “Boyfriend material.” Arthur laughed, Alfred looked like he just saw Superman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title From Lucky Strike By Troye Sivan. 
> 
> If I remember correctly, shit gets fluffy and cheesy af prepare yourself. I believe this is also the chapter where I just started ending everything with intent to change it, before I was trying to preserve as much of the original as possible but from this point on everything will probably be edited better.

**Chapter Ten: Lines**

Arthur’s first demand when he woke up on the sunny Saturday was painkillers. He quickly noticed that his own breathing was shallow and Alfred was still sleeping, much to Arthur’s disappointment. For the most part, the British man spent the morning trying to either fall asleep again or wake Alfred up. Instead he just stared out of the large window that overlooked the rest of the city. 

The clock on the side of the bed read 11:15 and Arthur was bored of finding a way to keep himself comfortable and entertained. Arthur’s plan came when he sat up and started coughing which didn’t even cause Alfred to stir. The blonde didn’t want to seem like a needy bitch so pretending to fall off the bed and break another rib was out of the question. His injury prevented him from moving in certain ways or being active on his feet for long, but at least he realised that he could at least stand up. 

Arthur snickered, “Alfred, I’m going for a run.” He announced as he held a pillow to his stomach and walked out of the room. Immediately, Alfred shot up in bed and ran toward Arthur, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s sides and lifted him, holding him gently around the waist in order to bring him back to the bed. Arthur struggled most of the way there, not because he was in pain but because he didn’t want to be carried. He was practically squished against Alfred, in a way that the American claimed was ‘cuddling’, but the position was less than ideal. 

“You’re not going anywhere.” Alfred stated and looked down to Arthur who laid with his pillow on the soft bed. “Stay.” 

The taller man then shuffled out the room with a yawn and a stern look that kept Arthur planted where he was. He decided that staring out the window to the city again was the next best option. It wasn’t the same view that they had in California, but it was different and nice in its own way. 

Alfred came in and distracted Arthur from the view, even though he got a new view. He was carrying an arm full of stuff, “‘Kay, Artie, the shirt’s gotta go but you can stay.” Alfred winked. 

“If you’re going to start telling me shit pick up lines then I’d much rather go for that run.” Arthur rolled his eyes and sat up again. 

“I think they're funny.” 

“Well, I don’t.” Arthur turned so Alfred could fix the wounds on his back and gave him more ice for his bruised ribs. Arthur thought that he might get to see more of the city than he had the day before, but it seemed like that that was impossible. He and Alfred would be cooped up in this over sized apartment because of Arthur’s physical state, so he figured, as he messed with his nightshirt, that two could play at the pick up lines game. 

“Hey Alfred? Do you know what material this is?” Arthur asked, letting Alfred touch the shirt.

“What? No? Why would-”

“Boyfriend material.” Arthur laughed, Alfred looked like he just saw Superman. 

“I am gonna use that sometime.” Alfred said, climbing into the bed again once Arthur put his ‘Boyfriend material’ shirt back on. 

“What about…. What has thirty-six teeth and holds back the incredible hulk? My Zipper.” Alfred decided on. Arthur shook his head and adjusted himself as Alfred reached for the telly remote. 

“Hi, did your license get suspended for driving all these guys crazy?” Arthur tried, laying his head on his favourite place on Alfred, that being where his arm and torso met. 

“Smile, it's the second best thing you can go with your lips.” Alfred said in a fit of laughter. Arthur tried to suppress his own laughter, not because it hurt, but because he didn’t want to, it was his usual agenda. 

“I have no idea where you store all of these.” Arthur held his torso for a second. Alfred turned his head from the tv that changed to a random channel, to look at Arthur—who seemed to be thinking. “Somebody call the cops because it should be illegal to look that good.” 

“I should be asking you the same thing, Artie. But I think I could win this war very easily.” Alfred boasted and wrapped his arm lightly around the pained Englishman. 

“I do not doubt this. But they all sound like you got them from Francis.” 

“How did you know?” Alfred acted like he was found out, before laughing. 

“You're an idiot.” Arthur nicknamed. 

Alfred and Arthur spend most of the afternoon going back and forth between bad pickup lines until Arthur ran out and had to beg Alfred to stop. At some point they took a break to go to the kitchen and eat before continuing their war. Otherwise known as Alfred telling Arthur a bunch of terrible lines and him trying not the laugh at them. 

Around six in the evening, the two were paid a visit from Alfred’s mother, who squealed as she walked into the bedroom to see the pair close to each other and watching yet another one of Francis' movies. Alfred was saying yet another pick up line that he had heard and remembered. 

“Hi there.” The film was interrupted by the lovely lady and apparently Allen, who had come with her. Arthur popped his head up quickly to move it from Alfred’s shoulder but Alfred just held him down until he gave up. 

“Did you know that there are still people lined up outside?” Allen asked, it was the first time Arthur had even heard him speak. 

“They must have been there all night.” Amelia thought. 

“I don’t doubt it.” Alfred looked over to his parents who were making themselves comfortable on the chairs in the big room. 

“They are usually quite persistent I suppose. Though, it would be nice if they would just continue on their way and leave the blasted building.” Arthur sounded fed up, but not just at the people on the street below.

“Had enough of me already, Artie?” 

  
“Yes quite, you’ve been telling me the worst pickup lines since before noon and frankly I’d rather jump out that window.” 

“Aw, you wouldn’t do that!” Alfred taunted. 

“Try me, you bloody American.” Arthur sat lifting himself from his comfortable position against Alfred and trying to get out of the bed. Meanwhile, Amelia and Allen sat in the corner watching the display as Alfred kept trying to pull Arthur back into the bed and away from the glass pane window that probably wouldn’t open even if you threw a sofa at it. 

By the time Arthur gave up his dream of jumping out of the window, jokingly of course. The American parents had started cooking dinner for the four and possibly Mathew, who they asked to join them after his practice. 

“Just curious, Arthur; how long have you lived in America?” Allen asked Arthur directly as he looked up from his tea that Alfred had gotten for him yesterday. 

“Since I was eighteen, so six years.” Arthur nodded trying to be friendly while also trying to forget that he was in pain. Though that was mostly because he didn’t know if Alfred’s father was as aware of his reason for pain. 

“That’s quite a while. You’ve been in California that whole time?” Allen asked, he was a friendly person just like Alfred’s mother, his hair was darker than Alfred and Amelia’s but he finally understood where Alfred got his height from. Arthur just nodded at the man’s question. 

“Hey Arthur come ‘ere for a sec, would ya?” Alfred called from the other room. Arthur put down his tea and excused himself from the table he was sat at with Amelia and Allen. Allen just nodded and read his newspaper, while Amelia started a conversation about something that Arthur couldn’t hear as he walked across the living room to the bedroom where Alfred was. He stood up from the desk that he was sitting at when Arthur came in, his phone sat on the desk next to him with a paper that had been freshly printed. 

“Just sign here.” Arthur picked up the paper and read through it noticing that it was a new contract under a new manager. At first, the Brit thought it was fake and was about to storm out of the room yelling at the sandy haired man for taunting him so viciously, though he quickly realised that it was anything but. 

Alfred thought the way that Arthur looked up at him for the second time was adorable. He looked up to Alfred with a mixture of tears and happiness. Arthur just stared at Alfred for a good minute. 

“Is this real, Alfred?” Arthur had to ask, he couldn’t believe that the hell he had been in for six years could be done with a flight to New York for an improvised vacation, a call to a Japanese man, and his signature. 

“Yes.” Alfred laughed and urged Arthur to take the pen again. The British man signed his name neatly, dropped the pen, and then buried his face into Alfred’s shirt, wrapping his pale arms around the diameter of the American's neck. 

“Never thought you were one for hugs, Artie.” Alfred smiled and Arthur hoped that Alfred’s parents weren’t looking into the large white room. Arthur knew he couldn’t answer without choking, never had he ever thought that he could cry so much in front of one man but here he was again, though weren’t sad tears this time. Alfred ‘shhed’ the foreigner and rocked him back and forth as Arthur probably made his shirt soak through, but he couldn’t get himself to care. 

Somewhere along the way, maybe it was during the rehearsal or maybe it was even the first time Alfred ever saw him, that he knew he wanted to make Arthur smile. He wanted to figure out why the Brit was always so grumpy all the time, and he did. But he found out that Arthur might mean a little more to him than he had originally bargained for. 

Arthur had a similar situation in the previous regard. However, he didn’t smile, all he wanted was to get out of his manager's grasp and do what he loved, which was make films, but it was difficult to do when he had to cover something up all the time. Even when somebody smiling for him instead of hitting him was more than enough. Alfred was enough and absolutely wonderful. And now he had pulled a stunt to get Arthur away from the worst part in his life and over to a new management. Arthur was amazed, he never thought that the loud, slightly obnoxious American would ever mean so much to him.

Arthur continued to tear up until quite a loud choke sparked the interest of Alfred’s parents, who came into the room concerned. Arthur clung to Alfred for dear life. Alfred said nothing to the other people in the room, even when Matthew stopped by he didn’t let go of Arthur to greet his brother. Mattie always seemed to understand though and seeing Arthur helped him gage the situation as well. 

Alfred was able to sit Arthur down on the bed and say goodbye to his family and explain why everything happened like it did. Amelia was overjoyed and Allen just looked happy if not the slightest bit confused. 

“By the way, we are leaving again tomorrow.” Alfred shrugged when his Mom and Dad were gathered by the elevator door. Matthew had left a few minutes prior. 

“Again? You barely stay long enough, and there were complications this time.” Amelia pouted earning a hand on the shoulder from Allen, who stood and roughly the same height of Alfred, give or take a few inches. 

“Arthur said he apologizes for everything.” Alfred said, reciting the words that Arthur himself had said before Alfred pulled himself away from the Brit. “I wanted to stay longer too, but we are going to start filming on Monday.” 

“Tell the poor boy that he didn’t do anything wrong.” Allen offered. Amelia nodded in agreement.

“And send me the movie details once you can Alfie!” Amelia added, automatically cleared of her sadness, “Also remember what I told you about limiting his activity and keeping Arthur comfortable even if it means pulling some strings on set, you hear me?” she said sternly. 

“‘Course, Mom.” Alfred agreed, looking over his shoulder into the room where Arthur sat in the same way that Alfred left him. 

“Remember what I said to you the first time I saw him, okay?” Amelia added and walked into the elevator as Allen pressed the button. Alfred smiled and waved them off before running through the dark house to Arthur, jumping onto the bed like a child. Arthur smiled. 

“What? Are there ghosts?” He asked when Alfred had himself situated in bed again. 

“Don’t scare me like that, Artie.” Alfred shivered. 

“I would tell you off about that bloody name, but I figured that it's useless at this point.” Arthur allowed himself to settle his head on Alfred again, it was their new go to cuddle position. 

“Right you are, Artie!” Alfred smiled, Arthur did the same. “How about we play a game?” 

“A game?” Arthur questioned, confused by Alfred’s antics as always. 

“Yeah, Twenty Questions. I ask you a question and then you ask me one back until we’ve reached twenty.” 

“Bugger. Fine.” Arthur went along with it for Alfred’s sake, even though he would just be fine sitting in silence. 

“YAY! Okay, I’ll go first.” Alfred announced and thought for a second. “Where did you live in England?” It was something that the American had always wanted to figure out and it really didn’t give any details on Alfred googled Arthur’s wiki page. 

“London.” Arthur answered simply, “Have you lived in New York since your childhood?”

“You betcha.” Alfred smiled and reached over Arthur for the remote to the tv. “How many siblings do you have? Wiki doesn’t say much ‘bout that either.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes and groaned, “Four. Alistair the oldest, Seamus, Dylan, myself, and young Peter. They are worse than twenty of you combine.” 

Alfred laughed, “They can’t be that bad.” Arthur gave him a look for that, “Anyway!” 

After a few more questions and answers they had lost count of which one they were on, all they knew was that it was Arthur’s turn. “What has been your favourite role in a film?” 

“I like how this one is turning out.” Alfred gave a cocky grin. 

“We haven’t even started filming yet.” Arthur looked unamused. 

“Fine, I think that one I did where I was the one guy’s son, it was a remake but it kinda just went through his life and stuff.” Alfred said, clearly on the brink of exhaustion.

“Oh. That one was depressing, Alfred. Lovely performance though.” Arthur was running low on battery as well, they had to wake up early so they might as well fall asleep early if they could help it. 

“Awesome though. It was made in Europe, and I got to drive one of the fast cars on that road in Germany where there is no speed limit.” Alfred mumbled, “That was a long time ago though.”

“Fascinating.” Arthur said, allowing himself to follow Alfred’s lead and drift off to sleep. After all they had to get up early to catch a plane back to California and start the movie. Arthur was not excited, but at least he had an action packed vacation. Even if it wasn’t the best one ever.

In the morning, Alfred and Arthur got back on the plane, the same flight attendant met the two with a fake smile and wave. Alfred smiled back and before turning into the plane finally he waved back to the large group and then some that had followed them, snapping pictures and shoving microphones in their faces, asking useless questions that they both didn’t bother to answer. Arthur moved through the crowd in front of Alfred, who was smiling and waving, while Arthur crossed his arms in front of his chest and scowled like he usually did for photographers. That is unless he was doing something for an actual photoshoot or professional camera, he was known for being friendly toward certain cameras as long as they weren’t held by paparazzi. 

Alfred blew a kiss to the crowd and made most of the ladies squeal and take more pictures, the security team stayed in a line to keep the group controlled. 

“Are you going to fly it this time?” Arthur asked, getting another pillow from the flight attendant that was now more persistent toward getting to talk to Alfred, who was just acting oblivious. 

“Nah, I figure that I would just stay here with you.” Alfred smiled and sat himself next to Arthur. They started a quick conversation, Arthur’s head rested on Alfred’s shoulder which got a jealous look from the blonde attendant. Arthur, who decided to be petty, kept doing it. Somehow their conversation ranged anything from Arthur ranting about how dangerous those crowds could be to Alfred talking on and on about nicknames and lemurs. 

“If you could give one nickname what would it be?” Alfred asked, not even remembering the last time he called Arthur by his own name. 

“What was that one that your Mum used? Alfie was it?” Arthur conversed and let Alfred play with his hand that was nearest to him. 

“Yeah, that's just her name for me.” 

“I like that one, what about Al? Alf?” Arthur asked, getting flashbacks to a show he might have seen, “I think that was an American Tv show at some point.” 

“I dunno.” 

“You could be an Alien.” Arthur thought. ( X-files theme plays in the background.) 

“I had a friend that was an Alien once, his name was Tony but he had to go back to his planet, so I named my cat after him.” Alfred looked saddened. 

The next few hours were about the same as the two spoke of nothing important. Once they had gotten back to the house Alfred told Arthur to take a nap, due to his Mother’s orders. And a few more hours after that it was finally Monday and another day that Alfred would be like Arthur’s personal bodyguard. 

“I just got off the phone with Kiku and he said that the contract with take thirty days to go through or somethin’ like that.” Alfred walked into the room that Arthur was sitting in looking down at his rarely checked cell phone for updates on different things. 

“That’s better than a few years.” Arthur reassured, getting off of the couch and standing next to Alfred, who was now apparently prepared to leave the house. It was around six or on the hour of seven, and was perhaps the perfect time to leave the house and join everyone on the set. 

Alfred started a quick conversation as they gathered into his Ferrari again, just to get used to the hotter California weather compared to New York. “Kiku also ran though from schedule for the week, which is mostly the movie plans and stuff. For today though, I have to record the voice over. So we need to find Francis.” 

“Francis? Why?” Arthur had forgotten all about Francis after the call from him when they were stationed in New York. 

“So he can put you in the corset. Cuz’ I can’t.” Alfred was low-key panicking, but he knew that Francis could do it if they could find him. He was mostly likely just drifting between departments critiquing other people's work. 

“He doesn’t know though. And your Mum said no putting me in a corset.” Arthur groaned and played the ‘Mom said’ card. 

“Right, maybe we can pull some strings er somethin’.” Alfred remembered and smiled at Arthur, who was already preparing himself for whatever Francis was going to do. 

Arthur could tell that the morning would be hard. It all started when they couldn’t find Francis at all. Secondly, Alfred was swept away to a recording studio to start the voice overs that they had all practiced during the script readings. Arthur was left to sit in his dressing room and wait until he was called or reprimanded to do something. 

However, Anri was his first stop that morning. After he dropped his things off in the dressing room and went to find Francis that is. But going to Anri meant that things were better and worse. 

The young lady was appalled at Arthur’s torso. Arthur, rightfully, had to explain what happened. 

“After we had gotten back Alfred had fixed everything that he could. He told Francis a bloody terrible excuse in the morning and that same day he decided that we would spend the weekend in New York.” Arthur rambled.

“NEW YORK?” Anri sounded surprised as he covered a particularly long and deep slash mark. 

“New York.” He confirmed, “That was painful, do be careful, dear.” Arthur tried to be nice to the younger, but it didn’t help when there was a bristled brush digging into his back and side. 

“Sorry, Arthur. Anyway, what did you guys do?!” She asked, still joyful and excited as before. 

“Nothing much. Apparently, the day before when I still had my manager he fractured one of my ribs.” Arthur motioned down to the deep bruise that Anri hadn’t covered yet. “We only figured it out because there had been photographers following us, which meant that we had to run.” 

Anri nodded in understanding. “Wait? What do you mean ‘still had my manager’?” 

Arthur felt like jumping up and down and giggling like Alfred might, instead he kept calm, “Apparently the idiotic American somehow turned my management over to his manager, who had been looking for a client anyway.” 

Anri’s jaw dropped.

“You might catch flies like that.” Arthur knew how she felt though. 

“ARTHUR! That’s amazing! This means I won’t have to do this anymore.” Anri teared up a little, “But I do like my job.” 

“Well, I’m not firing you.” Arthur reassured her with a small smile as she moved on to lightly press foundation and tap powder onto Arthur’s rib cage. 

“This means you're dating now, right?” 

“I beg your pardon?” Arthur raised an eyebrow. Arni then started doing his makeup, making sure that it was perfect for the first scene that they would be filming that day. 

“Well, I thought cause… well, he clearly likes you, A LOT. And you do too, right?” Anri’s face was red as if she had said something wrong in front of a bunch of people. 

“I-I have no clue.” Arthur hadn’t said no, or yes for that matter. It was quite impossible for anybody not too like Alfred though, he sometimes felt that he could be an equivalent to one of Alfred’s fangirls. 

“I thought you said you had even met his parents too, right!?” She asked, leaning back and admiring her work, like the perfectionist that he was. 

“I did. They were lovely, but that doesn’t mean that...” Arthur was cut off halfway through his sentence by a knock at the door. Anri answered it and notified Arthur that it was the girl that was probably from Jersey. 

“I’ve been sent to fetch Mr. Kirkland.” She said, popping her pink bubble gum. 

“I refuse.” Arthur crossed his arms and looked to Anri for help. Anri disappointingly shook her head. 

“Sorry Art, but I have someone after you.” 

“Bloody hell.” Arthur got up and walked past Anri to the door, arms crossed with a fierce look painting his features, the bubblegum girl followed him down the hall. 

“Listen hun, I dunno what you have against me but-” The woman started, flicking her colourful bun one way on her head to the next. 

“I believe you almost killed me last time.” Arthur pouted, stopping at one place in the hallway unintentionally allowing her to catch up. He had no idea where he was heading to though, he was hoping he might run into Alfred or, hell, even Francis would be fine. Arthur turned down yet another hall with a fast pace until he came up on one of the recording rooms, it also happened to be the only one that had a sign that read; ‘RECORDING IN SESSION’ outside the door. 

Arthur didn’t bother knocking before walking into the booth that was across from the room that Alfred was recording in. Despite Arthur’s break in, Alfred didn’t stop saying what he needed to. The room had a collection of people in it, including a sound director, Marc, and one other person that Arthur didn’t recognise. Alfred probably hadn’t even seen Arthur through the glass yet. The other three noticed him and when the angry designer stormed out behind him. Arthur leaned against the wall with a content smirk. 

When Alfred finished, the directors in the room turned to Arthur. “Thank God you’re here, Arthur. We decided that since you two had gone somewhere on Thursday and Friday that Francis and Gilbert should already record their part so we can get into the actual production starting tomorrow. We figured that you two should record the music now.” 

Arthur was quite shocked when he was ushered into the booth that Alfred was already sitting in, he was quickly handed a revised set of lyrics. Alfred gave him a small smile as the sound director gave him the second pair of headphones and went back to the panel room where he tuned every note to perfection. 

In the end, both Alfred and Arthur were delighted with the results, including the ones that they did with other people. Yet there was still a healthy amount of time before anybody could think about going home. Marc, at this time, called for an emergency dance rehearsal, though it wasn’t so emergency when all the dancers and actors knew their parts from top to bottom and side to side. 

Everything ran smoothly except for one incident that sent Arthur stumbling to the floor. He had played it off by saying that he was out of breath, but in that moment Alfred couldn’t help but panic a bit. Thankfully, Arthur quickly recovered and called for everyone to continue, the only thing Alfred could do was play along with the charade. Luckily, they didn’t need to use costumes for such an improvised rehearsal, or everything might’ve gone down hill a lot faster. 

The American and Englishman were stopped on their mission to head back to Arthur’s dressing room. At first they feared that it might have something to do with Arthur’s falter a bit early, but they quickly composed themselves prepared for what may come. 

However, it was Marc, nothing new. He didn’t seem to care about the mistake at all, instead he started an entirely different conversation, “Have you looked over the script for your ‘scene together’, yet?” Arthur rolled his eyes and fought the urge to continue down the hall, it took Alfred a second to figure it out. 

“Uh, not yet, dude.” Alfred said before any words had come out of Arthur’s mouth. 

“That’s fine, but we are going to be starting preparations for it in the next few weeks of filming.” Marc cleared up. 

“‘Course, we’ll fix that right up.” Alfred continued and said his goodbyes to Marc, who walked the way opposite that Arthur and Alfred were walking in.

As per usual they got off late, much to Arthur's disliking since his aching hadn’t diminished for the entirety of the day. Once they had gotten home, however, Arthur just collapsed on the couch and held his head. 

“Ya rib still hurt, Arthur?” Alfred asked, setting some crap on the kitchen counter and turning back to Arthur. He hadn’t even noticed that he called Arthur by his first name instead of a nickname like he usually did. Arthur answered to his name, not even caring about what he was called at the moment, but liking the way his name sat on the blonde’s tongue. 

“I suppose I will be fine. Anri gave me something earlier.” Arthur concluded and watched as Alfred sat next to him on the couch, he took Arthur’s legs and laid them over his own thighs as he sat. Arthur gave him a look before deciding it was comfortable and that he could live with it. 

“Do we have to read over  _ that  _ part? It’s uncomfortable.” Alfred groaned, wondering if they could just skip to the best part, but he wouldn’t tell Arthur anything of the sort. Hell, he didn’t even know it the British man liked him, considering he called him an idiot all the time and brushed off all advances like the plague. 

“Yes, Alfred, you git. If they are already making preparations then we might as well.” Arthur explained, lulling his head against the cushion. 

“Yeah, but we just got back from-” 

“Alfred……” 

“I thought that you’d be tired.” Alfred said, lifting Arthur's legs again to go find the booklet that had everything they would need to read in it. 

Arthur had looked through it a few times, it was simple, but then again he felt that most of his part was doable. The only thing making this own thing bad was the fact that Arthur couldn’t get rid of his feelings. 

They looked through the script for the scene quickly and realised that Arthur was even lying in the position he needed to be in. That is how easily it started until Alfred came in. Sure enough the American made everything awkward. It had gotten to the point where Arthur was wondering if they should have chosen the option of faking it all and allowing the editors to do their movie magic, instead of going all the way like most preferred to do during a sex scene. It had never been a problem for them in the past with different co-stars, so why was it so different now? Surely they would never do anything of the sort unless it was on set. Right? What was getting in the way of them reading the script and acting it out like they normally would? 

Eventually he called it quits for a bit. It was a good hour and a half filled with different shows on the telly and quite a few drinks that would probably help the awkwardness, before they got started again. This time Arthur had a different approach.

“Alfred!” Arthur called, Alfred had gone to get his glasses instead of contact lenses. 

“What?” Alfred called back, looking around the house in his not too wasted state to find Arthur, who was lying on his back on the couch, kicking his legs into the air. The room, along with the rest of the house, that had gone dark. 

“I think we should get to practising.” Arthur decided and stopped swinging his legs.

“What are we practising?” Alfred knew it wasn’t what he was written to say but the movements were all there. 

“Our lines, of course!” Arthur watched through his lidded vision that quickly cleared as Alfred put an arm on either side of his shoulders and sat side-saddled on the couch, startling Arthur at the suddenness of the action. 

“I don’t think this is how it goes.” Alfred said, his face just centimeters from Arthur’s. 

“We can make it up as we go along.” Arthur teased. Alfred agreed and pressed his lips to Arthur’s, who put one hand on the side of Alfred’s jaw to get a better angle. There were a few seconds before Alfred licked Arthur’s bottom lip.

Silently asking to take it a step further, which Arthur gladly accepted and grabbed the back of Alfred’s neck with his other hand to pull the American down more. Alfred responded by breaking the kiss for a second and standing, he threw one of his legs over the other side of Arthur’s hips and went back down to catch the Brit’s soft lips again. 

Arthur’s buzzed state was starting to secede from the hour ago that he started drinking, he reached down with the hand that was once on Alfred’s face to slip onto his shirt and then a little lower until Alfred broke the kiss with a gasp. Arthur smiled at that and kissed Alfred one last time on the lips. He then continued to keep his focus on taking Alfred’s shirt off over his head and launching it toward the door in the entryway. 

Arthur was so caught up in kissing Alfred that he almost didn’t notice that the strong American lifted him from his lying down position and pulled him into his lap so that Arthur could straddle him instead of the other way around, seeing as how it was more uncontrollable for Alfred. Alfred, by this point, had also gotten Arthur’s pants over his legs and threw them toward the window to the backyard leaving the other in his boxers and long sleeved green shirt. 

“Bedroom?” Alfred whispered in the already quiet room that was filled with his and Arthur’s heavy breathing. 

Arthur nodded, unable to say anything else as Alfred picked him up and carried him over to one of the hallway walls. He lightly placed Arthur’s back against it as they continued to lock lips, Alfred set Arthur down. But Arthur decided to push Alfred into the opposite wall and start to undo Alfred’s jeans. Alfred took his glasses off his one hand and dropped them to the ground with a soft clatter, after they landed he slipped his hands behind Arthur and into his boxers to grope the other’s ass. Arthur breathed in sharply and let Alfred turn them around again so that he was against the wall and picking him up again. This time they went straight to Alfred’s king sized bed. 

Once they landed Arthur broke away from Alfred’s bruised lips with a groan as their lengths hit against each other. 

“You wanna go all the way?” Alfred asked, out of breath.

  
“God, yes. All the way.” Arthur repeated, confirming. Alfred seemed to gain a bit of confidence at that. Arthur had gotten Alfred’s pants off and the American helped move out of them and throw them toward the door they just stumbled through. Alfred, in this time, rolled Arthur to the top of him so that he was able to grab a condom from the side drawer along with the lubricant. Arthur was leaning down to press kisses down Alfred’s collarbone and neck. Frankly, he didn’t care if anybody saw, he knew Anri could just cover it up later.

Alfred rolled the condom on and flipped Arthur over again so that they were still in a heated make out while he prepared Arthur. The Brit wrapped a leg around Alfred’s hip as he felt the American’s fingers. The Englishman stifled a moan as Alfred’s cold fingers touched him, he bit down on Alfred’s bottom lip, not hard enough to make it bleed but hard enough to entice a squeak out of the larger male. After a few minutes of preparing, Alfred finally decided that Arthur was ready. 

  
Arthur winced at first with a loud moan that Alfred had to kiss him for again, but after a few seconds Arthur gave the okay to start. Alfred started in that position before turning them slowly so that Arthur was straddling him around the waist. Arthur was in a daze as they moved against each other and casually spoke Alfred’s name until it died on his lips with a final movement. Arthur used what strength he had left to flip them over once again. After Alfred finished they rode off the rest of their high while they kissed each other on leftover red and purple marks that they put on each other’s skin. 

After they got cleaned up and settled into bed, Arthur couldn’t help but smile to himself as he thought that, for the first time in a long time, the only recent marks on his skin before he fell asleep were love bites from Alfred. 

After a little while of sitting in the dark with Arthur breathing on his skin, Alfred spoke up, “If that’s what it’s going to be like during that sex scene then I wouldn’t mind doing it again.” 

“Hmm.” Arthur laughed a little in agreement. He drifted off to sleep with Alfred’s soft hand massaging the length of his arm. 

Arthur didn’t understand the way that he felt about Alfred, it wasn’t the same he had loved Francis, far from that actually. Alfred wasn’t in it for the sex as far as Arthur knew. Hell, it was only their first time doing it and it was by accident, not that it would happen again as far as Arthur was aware. In the end even though he might have wanted it, Francis was only in it for the sex and he found that he definitely prefered it to their otherwise dull relationship, hence it being more of a friends with benefits ordeal instead. 

Alfred, however, was different. 

They fell asleep in the way they usually do with all of Arthur’s injuries, he probably wasn’t supposed to do said nightly activities in the first place, but figured it was worth it. Alfred was gentle enough for it not to affect or inflicted anything. 

That morning, however, Francis was startled to find Alfred’s front door unlocked, one of his cars was out in front of his house, and there was a trail of clothing leading straight into Alfred’s bedroom. The Frenchman was convinced that the American just had somebody over last night and that it was no big deal, it would’ve been normal considering that he was young and attractive. However, the clothing wasn’t that of a lady’s, even though it was fairly obvious that the American probably only had a thing for a certain Angleterre. 

Francis tried not to smile to himself as he stepped over the clothing that littered the floor, he followed the path that led into Alfred’s half closed bedroom door. 

Alfred laid on his back running his fingers through Arthur’s hair, the blonde had been awake for some time and a few minutes after he woke up so did the green eyed man. Alfred had been idling on about nothing once again and Arthur just listened intently, lying in the space where Alfred’s shoulder and neck met, tracing a tattooed star that Alfred had on the nape of his neck, close to his shoulder blade. Arthur hadn’t noticed it before probably because it was small and was most often covered by camera makeup or clothing. 

Arthur had contemplated going back to sleep, they both didn’t know what time it was, but they didn’t want to get up to begin with. Both were perfectly content lying unclothed in a messed up bed. 

“I think we went a little far with line practise.” Arthur said, continuing to trace Alfred’s skin.

“You don’t regret it, do you?” Alfred panicked and tried to sit up to look at Arthur, who just moved so more of him was on Alfred’s muscular body.

“No, you bloody idiot!” Arthur snapped, laughing a little in the meantime. 

“Oh, ok. Good.” Alfred put his neck down again and leaned his head into the pillow again. His arm was wrapped just above Arthur’s butt, daring to go further. 

“We cannot tell the media or anyone anything.” Arthur said, getting serious.

“About what?” Alfred winked letting Arthur know that he knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Wanker.” Arthur rolled his eyes and let himself be pulled onto the younger’s torso by the man himself. 

“You love it.” 

“I most certainly do not, I thought we established this.” 

“I thought we established something else.” Alfred’s cocky grin was back. Arthur had the very urge to wipe it off of his face and pressed his own lips to Alfred’s, who took them in greedily. 

“Don’t we...” Arthur tried breaking away before the American started something again. “...have work?” He finally got out.

“Mmm, no.” Alfred groaned, he shifted his hands under the covers to hold Arthur’s thighs, that just so happened to be exactly how Francis discovered them. 

Arthur couldn’t help himself and leaned into Alfred’s touch. Alfred was a mess when Arthur pecked his neck, before coming back up to his lips. 

Francis, all the while, had entered the house a minute ago and followed the clothes pile, only to see this. Perhaps one of the most unexpected situations. It could’ve been concluded that Francis would’ve been overly jealous with what he saw, but it was just the opposite. Arthur had never been truly happy in their own relationship but they had always been good friends. Deep down Francis knew their relationship would never work, there were always other people for him.

And now apparently for Arthur. 

The door wasn’t all the way closed, Francis only peaked in for a second to see Arthur leaning over the toned American who was half-way under the covers. It was clear that they were in a conversation with kisses thrown in between every other word. . 

The way Francis saw it he had two options. One; barge in and say Bonjour, or two; let it be and go back and knock on the front door again. The blonde Frenchman had been there long enough to know that the two wanted their ‘relationship’ or whatever they had going on, to be a secret, that much was obvious. 

Francis just decided to leave it be. Arthur was never one for PDA. So the second option it was. Francis carefully made his way back to the front door and closed it before going back to the studio to just call the pair instead. 

Minutes after, Arthur figured that it was time to get out and get going so they wouldn’t be late like they always were. 

“What time is it?” Alfred asked, emerging from the room fully dressed and fixing his dress shirt. 

“Six-thirty.” Arthur remarked, “We start filming today.” 

Alfred seemed to perk up at that. Arthur was sat on the living room couch looking through his cell phone at a message from Marc, it simply read that all were supposed to meet in the meeting room, the room that the script readings were also done in. 

Alfred started mumbling something random about how the day was going to be awesome, while Arthur was left confused and wondering about other things. 

Arthur just rolled his eyes. Alfred shuffled out of his room a few minutes later with no glasses anywhere to be seen. The next stop was the set and the start of filming, with one exception. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is confused, yes, the original chapter titles are the ones in bold in the fic, the newer ones are the ones with lyrics an whatnot. I decided to add them anyway because why not? (Even though they suck and are extremely vague I don't recommend going to the OG).


	11. “So take me to the paradise in your eyes, green like American money…”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur just rolled his eyes and stood up, he put on his dress shirt again before waving goodbye to Anri. He made his way to the meeting room that he was escorted to by an employee who was probably sent to get him because of the message that Marc had sent him and everybody else that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from American Money by BORNS. I'm like 72% certain that this song was made for USUK?

**Chapter Eleven: Show**

Arthur’s first place of obligation was Anri’s room to have everything done. The girl was already getting her things out and waiting for Arthur to appear in the seat in front of the vanity mirror. 

Anri could see the look of confusion and despair of Arthur’s face and felt sorry for a reason she couldn’t even place. In other words, he looked unsure of himself and seemingly in question.

“What’s up, Arthur?” Arthur snapped his head up as Anri asked. She then started throwing different kinds of stage makeup on him and his torso that he had to remove his shirt for. None of the wounds showed any sign of letting up anytime soon, especially on Arthur’s ribs. The same injury that was making it harder and harder to breathe, that day in particular. 

“Nothing quite of importance.” 

“Aw, come on! I know there is something up.” Anri pressed. Arthur let up. 

“I will tell you, but you do have to promise not to tell a soul.” Arthur bargained. 

“Have I ever told anybody anything?” The light haired woman asked scoffing a little. 

“No, but I prefer to execute caution.” Arthur supposed. He waited until Anri promised not to tell anyone. “Alfred and I...rehearsed last night.” 

“Isn’t that what you are supposed to do?” Anri asked, puzzled. 

“Well yes, but it went a little far when we moved on to the-” 

“ARTIE!” Anri squealed, “Tell me all about it!” 

“That’s a bit personal, isn’t it?” Arthur crossed his arms and raised his chin in order for Anri to cover it in translucent powder.

“Yeah, but still, I wanna know! This is something you and I can relate on!” Anri cheered. 

Arthur just rolled his eyes and stood up, he put on his dress shirt again before waving goodbye to Anri. He made his way to the meeting room that he was escorted to by an employee who was probably sent to get him because of the message that Marc had sent him and everybody else that morning. 

The two blondes were accounted for when they were ushered into the main meeting room where the readings of the script were held. 

Arthur hadn’t even been able to speak to Alfred about what had happened the night before, he didn’t even know what they were anymore, talking to Anri hadn’t helped either. At most they had briefed the subject, but never put anything into words. It left Arthur’s brain in a state of disarray. 

At first he was nervous because he had to kiss the man in a practise scene, next thing he knew they slept together. Arthur went further into a state of pondering when the two of them finally sat down. It only made matters worse that Alfred was grinning and sitting next to him like an idiot. Sure they had a few minutes that morning, but it just went like all mornings do, they completely ignored the topic for the most part.

As more people piled into the room they also wore faces of pondering, but for an entirely different reason. Everybody in the room had a look of concern or just fear, this meeting could have been the firing of somebody or just an overall announcement that something was canceled. Arthur sure hoped it wasn’t. 

“No need to work yourselves up.” Marc said, walking into the room followed by two others; the producer, and another individual that Arthur didn’t recognise. “Nobody's getting fired and nothing being canceled.” 

“This is good news.” The producer spoke up. “We had an offer to do this live on a stage.” 

The room was astounded and shocked. 

Somebody from the back of the room was the first to speak up, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

  
“It means that since this is originally in the form of a musical that some asked us to perform it, that is if the rest of the actors and the department agree.” Marc explained. Alfred was ecstatic, he had done a musical like thing once or twice before and most everybody knew when they were auditioning for their part in the movie that it was a remake of an original. “So basically we have to decide how to film it.” 

The morning was pure discussion about how they were going to continue the film. The producers and director along with some actors were in a heated debate about how to do everything. Alfred kept giving Arthur looks from the seat next to him and Francis wouldn’t stop smirking at it. 

Around 9 am is when the ultimate decision was made.

“After a while of discussion and hearing opinions, the best option we have is to continue filming and do only one show.” Marc said, standing on the table in the middle of the room. There were many nods throughout the room. “The reason that we hesitate is because that means that there will be two different versions of the same things, a stage adaption and a film version.”    
  


“We are going to continue filming as normal and incorporate what we need to from the live show into the movie. Any questions?” 

The population of the room just nodded in agreement and understanding before they were all dispersed to continue the film. Everyone was relieved that the production wouldn't end or come crashing down just because of a few new improvements and adaptations to show they were going to do. 

Alfred, Arthur, and other actors were hurried into costumes and makeup to prepare for the first day of filming that had come so abruptly.

However, at the moment, Alfred was in one of his rare panicking states that happened whenever he looked at Arthur, it was as if a tidal wave of anxiety rushed over him. It was clear to anybody, no matter how hard Arthur tried to hide it, that he was in extreme pain. Something that was almost entirely caused by his wardrobe. Alfred eventually dragged Arthur to Anri’s, who immediately took care of him before he was thrust back into the spotlight so they could start the scenes in the beginning after Alfred’s solo part. 

Throughout the next hour many things commenced. The first was the decision on how to take the show on the road. All that was decided was that there would only be one show unless someone paid big money to have another one. It would be performed in New York, much to Alfred’s delight, and it would be filmed in front of a live audience, much to Arthur’s despair and fear of people seeing the bruises with the high tech stage lights. With the live show the studio producing the movie could put the scene from the live performance into the film without having to waste time and resources on making a new set. An actual auditorium would also make some scenes that much more believable. 

In the hour that this was decided, Arthur was busy trying to perform his lines in front of a camera and an American who just wouldn’t stop laughing for no reason. Seeing as all the lines were memorised, it was just a matter of saying them seriously in front of Alfred and the camera. The only pressure was that these takes would be official. Arthur just figured it was Alfred living up to reputation behind the screen. Arthur was quite amused, but Marc on the other was not and cut the scene before Arthur could say his next line. 

“Alfred, get your shit together man.” Marc declared and motioned for the cameraman to restart the camera scene. All the while, Arthur was giving Alfred a death stare after his amusement toward the man subsided. 

“Fine.” Alfred groaned and went back to the scene. Something about Arthur having to do some exaggerated sexual gestures compared to what the Brit did last night was kind of hilarious to him. Alfred was hit with a wave of reality when he realised that he had barely said anything to Arthur about the ordeal besides for a few mumbled nothings that probably didn’t make too much sense. Alfred felt a bit guilty when he realised that Arthur was probably so confused. 

When Alfred didn’t start saying anything for the few seconds of the scene is when Marc called for yet another cut and then a ten minute break. He walked away muttering something about how the first day of filming was going quite awfully. 

As Arthur walked back to his dressing room he tried to unlace the corset he had around him for the first talking scene. Marc had decided to do the speaking scenes first and the fancy dance scenes next. Unsurprisingly Alfred followed him, even though the Englishman had taken on a pissy attitude for whatever reason that Alfred could probably predict. 

Alfred met Arthur in the dressing room that they both recently started to use. 

“What the bloody hell was that?” Arthur snapped, turning to face the American that he knew had been following him down the hall. So far Arthur was not impressed with Alfred’s actual on screen antics, last time he had an excuse seeing as it was rehearsal. This time, however, he didn’t and was making it a lot harder for the rest of the actors and crew. 

“I dunno.” Alfred decided on playing dumb, when they were interrupted by Arthur’s costumer with her high ponytail and look of confusion when she opened the door to see the American and Arthur in a semi-heated fight. Arthur was on one side of the room and Alfred was directly across from him. 

“Piss off, would you?” Arthur snapped again at the lady, who just lifted her arms in surrender and backed out of the room closing the door behind her. 

Arthur had, at that moment, started coughing harshly. Which was a cause of concern when Alfred knew that he had to get the velvet piece of clothing of Arthur, who was currently scratching at the back of things and trying to get himself out of it. Alfred, on the other hand, was behind Arthur, who was kneeling on the floor tearing open the costume as quickly as he could. 

Alfred hadn’t been there earlier when the costume had to be put on, he was having to do the filming for the scene that included the voice overs which in reality couldn’t all be finished until after most of the film was done for reasons regarding appearance. 

Alfred had finally undone the back of the container and let Arthur breathe for a second. 

“Bloody hell, I swear they're all trying to kill me.” Arthur breathed leaned against Alfred torso behind him. 

“Then again, I was the only one Francis praised for workmanship.” Alfred grinned, looking down over Arthur’s shoulder to look at his face. 

“Why must you always be so cocky about things?” Arthur asked, mostly rhetorically, but Alfred answered anyway.

“You didn’t have a problem with it last night.” Alfred grinned, shifting so that Arthur was facing him instead as they made themselves comfortable on the floor. 

“Please don’t start with all that. It’s all so confusing.” Arthur looked down and decided to mess with the tights that went with the costume. Alfred was scanning his eyes around Arthur’s frame, making sure that nothing was severely damaged by the costume. 

“I thought we already said that we were-” Alfred was cut off loudly by Arthur. 

“You didn’t say anything of the sort! We snogged for a night—minimally wasted, might I add—and woke up next to each other!” Arthur groaned and leaned on the floor on his back, not minding the pain or the heat that was rising in his face. “We do that all the time, just with clothing on. Why is this all so confusing?” Arthur racked his brain for an answer, to him, it was impossible to find. 

“Well, I’ll have ya know, Artie, that I did it for real and I just hope you don’t regret anything.” Alfred looked at Arthur, who was just sprawled out on the floor with his hands covering his face. 

“ I wouldn’t say I regret it. It was quite nice.” Arthur supposed. He lowered his hands from around his eyes to look at Alfred, who just grinned at him. He then maneuvered himself moved to sit in between Arthur’s legs that were bent at the knee and planted into the floor. 

“I like you a little more than you think, no problem right?” Alfred asked, hoping to receive a positive answer, while at the same time he couldn’t believe he actually admitted it. Just last week or so he strongly denied himself and the media's questions about the matter. 

Arthur was currently staring with large eyes at the male in front of him, the man had the most ridiculous, yet endearing, face plastered on. Arthur knew that he was just waiting for an answer that was taking the Englishman too long to process. Arthur was at a loss for words, it happened to be a recurring theme around Alfred, the American just seemed to take the words out of his mouth and the coherent thoughts out of his head. 

“Oh shit, I think I broke y-” Alfred finally got his answer when Arthur pressed his soft, makeup smeared lips, against Alfred’s and dragged him back down to the floor. It seemed as if actions worked better than words at the moment. As the kiss progressed, Alfred would’ve started trying to undress Arthur but he wasn’t even remotely dressed anyway, the Brit was on his bare back with only a see through curtain of lace fabric that was supposed to decorate the corset, covering him. Though his lower half had the accommodation to the look that was simple but effective. 

“Alfred, wait a moment!” Arthur stuttered, pulling back from Alfred’s face as he went for the tights on Arthur’s legs. 

“Mmm, what?” Alfred figured he could just get himself off by looking at the other blonde in this state, but he reluctantly pulled himself away from pecking at Arthur’s neck and running his hands over Arthur’s thighs. (He still couldn’t get over how right Francis had been about them.)

“We only had a few minute break.” Arthur recalled, looking down at what he figured to be his boyfriend, or otherwise they wouldn’t be doing such a thing in the time they had. 

“Fuck, you’re right.” Alfred frowned and was about to lift himself off of Arthur when there was yet another knock at the door, making the two jump and attempt to move out of their residing places on the floor. 

They could tell by the voice that it was one of the PA’s that wandered around the set looking for things to do. “The Director wants everybody back on set in a minute.” Her voice was little but serious. 

Arthur had to press a hand to his mouth to keep from letting out any sounds that Alfred had caused by trying to move and stand up. But it was his dressing room so he responsibly had to answer, he slapped a hand over Alfred’s mouth to keep him from saying anything that would raise suspicion. 

“Yes, great. I’ll be there in a minute.” Arthur stuttered, and waited until he heard the sound of shoes clicking on the floor before he turned his head from the side to look up at Alfred’s, who was staring down at him, smiling once again. 

“Wipe that smirk off your face!” Arthur scowled, he crossed his arms for a moment before allowing himself to grab the hand that Alfred offered so that he could be lifted from the ground, “We could’ve been caught.” 

Alfred just laughed and grabbed the costume from the floor and slid it around Arthur’s body to start redoing it again in the mere seconds they had to get back out to the set and restart the part that Alfred had so badly botched before. 

The scene was one they had practised in the rehearsals, but it was a difficult scene due to the nature of it, seeing as it was more on the suggestive side. Now though, Arthur was sure he could do it and not blink an eye, because one; he was an actor, and two; because the man he was about to ‘seduce’ was his own bloody boyfriend. Arthur never thought those words would form in his brain, and he never thought he would mean it, but here he was. 

Alfred watched as Arthur set himself up just inside the door in the same room as Alfred. The latter faced the opposite way taking on the role of a nervous man in his fancy suit just waiting for Arthur to start his lines in the scene. This scene was set to happen after the big dance number that Antonio had put together, and the rest of the acting parts though would happen throughout the next weeks of filming. This would be the time where the storyboardist, director, and editors of the film would see how they liked things and would edit and change parts according to the movie they wanted to produce. However, they had to find a way to include the one live performance, despite knowing that a date wasn’t yet determined, but were figuring things out little by little while still staying on schedule. 

Arthur was in the role of trying to get under Alfred’s character's skin, in a good way, but also possibly get him into the bed, and although it wasn’t obvious with his external features, that was all he would’ve wanted at that moment. 

Arthur spoke his lines from memory and moseyed around the room, hopefully making Alfred uncomfortable with the looks he was giving him. He could hear from behind the camera the light sounds of Mark trying to be quiet as he hid his delight for how well the scene, that they just couldn’t get down before, was going. He could also hear Francis doing the same with a twist that wasn’t pleasant. Arthur tried his best not to roll his eyes on camera as it transitioned into the part where he would pull at the zipper of Alfred’s trousers and launch him onto the bed in the room, it should have been a feat, but Alfred was just too willing. 

At the same moment that the Brit was about to mount the American like the script called for, Marc yelled a very clear ‘cut’, causing the blonde to stop in his tracks and transfer his gaze from Alfred to the director. 

“Alfred, don’t look so eager and willing, in this scene you are confused and only trying to do something innocent while Arthur’s character here is asking for something else.” Marc motioned at Arthur who stood at his place by the door once again crossing his arms. 

“And Arthur?” Said man looked up, “Perfect.” Marc added.

Alfred nodded at the dramatic director and stood up to restart the entire thing, he caught Arthur’s own smirk from the corner of his eye as he placed himself by the window again. 

“Take two!” Marc ordered, listening for the snap of the clapboard signalling the start of the second attempt. 

Everything was fine until Arthur finally got into the straddle mode and recalled that the scene order him to completely try to get Alfred’s pants off. That was when he lost it, like previously mentioned, Arthur always tried his best not to laugh on screen but sometimes he had to, now was one of those times. Arthur sat back on Alfred’s legs and held his hand to his mouth to stop himself from laughing, there was no point anymore since he knew he had already ruined the scene, but that would just mean another take. 

Alfred was again in tears as Arthur leaned forward again to place his forehead on Alfred’s shoulder to stifle his laughter. They weren’t the only ones though, some giggling was going on behind the camera and the lights of the set. 

“Cut.” Marc chuckled, but as a director he knew that if it took too long they would never get anything done. “What happened, Arthur? Everything was going so well.” 

“Are you bloody kidding me? Why don’t you try this?” Arthur said, casually crawling his way back off of Alfred, who laid back in the bed with his arms behind his head nodding jokingly with a smug face. Arthur’s taunting offered a few whistles from people around who thought it would be funny to see such a thing go down. 

“I don’t think so.” Marc announced and put his megaphone down again to start the thing over again. “Take Three, from the top!” 

Arthur rolled his eyes and this time did everything he could to keep a straight face while doing everything the script called for, including anything from erotic gestures to just frankly showing off his legs to make Alfred hot and bothered. In the end, the straddle scene went as best as it could go with no cuts until the end where other people were to come in and complete the scene with them. 

The first person joining them would be Gilbert, followed by the group from rehearsal and Antonio. 

In order to blend the previous scene that Alfred and Arthur had done with the one that they were about to do with Gilbert, Arthur’s character had to pass out and fall into Alfred’s arms, which incidentally ended up being Alfred’s favorite part. It continued when Alfred’s character panicked and dragged him to the bed, although the character had no intention of doing anything dirty, even though it may have looked that way. The Briton then supposedly woke up when Gilbert walked in and fixed the entire situation by giving Alfred a pat on his cheeks with small pale hands. 

Gilbert’s part had to be restarted a few times probably because of the odd state that he found Arthur and Alfred in as well as the fact that he had the giggles that kept him completing his part. 

As the scene with Gilbert continued, Alfred thought that everything Arthur had to do was a bit ridiculous, but damn did he look good doing it.

The blonde Brit, despite just having a scene with Alfred’s character now had to ‘seduce’ Gilbert’s character. It finally got weird when Arthur’s part called himself to feel his way up Gilbert, while still trying to have a sneaky conversation with Alfred through gestures. During this, Gilbert was busy trying to act his role as confused, although slightly aroused by Arthur and by some miracle he did, even though Arthur’s short singing part. 

However, he slightly messed up the part that came after. 

Which was how Alfred found himself standing in the same room trying to hide under a tiny curtain, while he hated life as he watched his boyfriend pretend that he going to have sex with Gilbert. Gilbert’s character had to seem as if he was being overwhelmed by Arthur’s dramatic expressions and actions. 

Everyone else found it funny except for Alfred, who hid his twinge of jealousy and continued the scene as it was written. He knew that Arthur was a great actor and wouldn’t let things go too far, but Gilbert was lying on top of Arthur regardless. The scene progressed as the Englishman pointed across the room for Alfred’s character to get out. Everything somehow played out until there was a cut in the scene that would lead to the next part. It was to the trio’s amusement that they didn’t mess up, even though it initially ended with a round of laughter. 

After their rushed celebration they transition to the next scene with Tino, Berwald, and the rest of the crew. 

The people behind the camera watched in delight as the musical number started, it was the chance for Alfred’s character to sweep Arthur’s off his feet. It was like watching an actual movie and somehow they managed not to mess up, completing the scene in one take, despite there being twice as many people on the set. Arthur would say that it was because of their rehearsal, but Alfred would say that it was just because everyone was having a good time. 

It was all amusing to say the least. 

It was also one of those times when nobody, who was working their ass off on set, knew what time it was, even with a lunch break. In other words, they had spent the morning doing the first thirty minutes of the movie until they got it right or it was how the directors and producers wanted it to be. 

Some time after the lunch break, they had changed costumes, leaving Arthur at the mercy of the heat. As the day progressed from morning to afternoon the Californian weather rapidly got hotter and hotter and the air conditioner for the studio had stopped working, which meant any fan that they could find was being used to keep the fancy cameras from overheating. Which left Arthur in a state that he never wanted to be in; in a corset in a hundred degree heat. He was sure that it would be possible for him to pass out for real if he so wanted. Alfred had run out of the studio entirely with his costume on to go to the store just to get ice to make an air conditioner. 

“I wonder if I can get a heat stroke from this? God, how I wish I was a film camera right now.” Arthur mumbled to nobody in particular but himself. He was sitting in his dressing room, his long cloak-like overcoat was sitting apart from the rest of his outfit, leaving him in the complimentary tights, undergarments, heels, and the corset he hated so much. He was sure that sweat from the heat would ruin the thing, which was ideal, or he would just eventually pass out and be over with it. 

Arthur was lost in his thoughts when a phone rang, he recognised the ring tone as his own, but the last time he picked up a phone with the same ringtone as his, it was Alfred’s. Just as it was this time. Arthur never answered other people's phones unless he needed to or they asked him too, but it was Alfred’s and the caller ID said ‘Mommy’ so he figured he would answer it anyway. 

“HI ALFIE!” Her voice boasted through the other end of the phone, much like Alfred’s always did. 

“Hello Amelia.” Arthur answered, the woman on the other end was clearly surprised to hear his voice instead of her son’s but after a second she apparently forgot about it. 

“Oh, hi dear! how are you? Please tell me that they didn’t put you in one of those ‘things’.” Her voice sounded sincere. 

“I am alright, but I hate to inform you that they have.” Arthur sat down in his chair again ruffling the material of his outfit as he kicked his feet up onto the vanity. 

“Hand the phone to your boss, we are going to have a talk.” He could just imagine her getting fierce like an angry mother. 

“It’s really fine I assure you.” Arthur messed with the decorative lace on the outfit that he was tied up in. Marc had given him a few ‘coping’ tips to deal with the corsets, seeing as Arthur constantly cursed them, but he never used any of them, one of those things being a package of cigarettes. The moment he saw them, he hated them. Although occasionally, he would place one of them in his mouth but never light them, which happened to be what he was doing now, he figured it was for the aesthetic. 

Alfred walked into the room while Amelia was in a heated debate with herself over the phone, he was, needless to say, surprised when he saw the cigarette hanging out of Arthur’s mouth. But the Brit just rolled his eyes and took it out to show the American that it wasn’t even lit. Alfred grinned and nodded then made his hand look like a phone to silently ask who he was talking to. 

Arthur mouthed, “Your Mum.” 

Unsurprisingly, Alfred took it as a joke. Arthur moved the phone from his ear and covered the speaker. “You are such a child, it really is your Mum.” 

“Oh, really?” Alfred asked, moving closer to Arthur, who stood up and let Alfred sit in the chair, before casually sitting on the larger man’s lap. Arthur figured he was just too far gone in his imaginary heat stroke to care. 

“–have a say about it.” Was all Arthur caught of Amelia’s ranting when he put his ear to the phone again, once he was comfortable in Alfred’s lap with his legs propped up onto the dresser and leaned against Alfred, who actually seemed to enjoy the position. He was also glad that he had locked the door when he came back in again. 

“I do assure you it’s alright. Alfred is here now, by the way.” Arthur finished and temporarily went deaf in one ear when the lady squealed that Alfred was in the room. 

“Pip Pip, Arthur!” She finished as the Brit handed the phone back to its rightful owner with a smile. 

“Mom!” Alfred started, “What’s up?” 

The simple phrase led to an in depth conversation that lasted a good few minutes. 

Arthur spent those minutes biting the end of the cigarette, hoping to become less irritated with his situation without lighting it. But it wasn’t working very well. While Arthur’s internal battle continued, Alfred’s hand ran through the patterns that made up the fishnet tights that were included in the package of the costume and now apparently Arthur. 

Alfred hung up with a smile and took the time to coax Arthur to turn around so that his legs were in a straddle position facing Alfred, just because he wanted to press light kisses to Arthur’s powdered face. Yet the phone rang again, this time it was Alfred’s manager, Kiku. 

“What’s up, dude?” Alfred asked, like everything was normal to his side of the phone when in reality Arthur was slowly and tenderly unbuttoning Alfred’s costume suit shirt, and then pressing his own butterfly kisses to Alfred’s tanned collarbone, and dragging his hands down Alfred’s sides agonizingly slowly. 

Something in Arthur’s brain was telling him to stop because it was the first day that he was sure that he was dating the American, but he couldn’t get himself to. At first, he told himself to stop because Kiku was on the phone, but he couldn’t because everything Alfred did made him like the sandy blonde even more than it did before. 

He had to ask himself how it happened when he knew all along. 

Kiku was talking into the other side of the phone and giving information about the rest of the week, as Arthur moved to Alfred’s neck and moved his hands lower, and making his own airy sounds just to get under Alfred’s skin. Arthur was now hot for an entirely different reason that wasn’t just because the air conditioner was off. When Kiku was done, Alfred nodded which he knew, somewhere deep in his brain, that Kiku couldn’t see, and just hung up before anything else slipped out. 

Alfred lifted Arthur’s lips, which were currently marking up his shoulders and collarbone, and brought them parallel to his instead. They both figured that they would have to stop getting so rowdy before they had to get back on set again, but they were still exploring, which was a good enough reason for the two of them. 

Sure enough, the minute mark was called when the intern knocked at the door, neither Alfred or Arthur could answer that time though, it was just a weak squeak of acknowledgement from one of the two. 

Inside the room was a feast of questionable activity. Arthur already knew that he would have to make an emergency stop to Anri for a quick makeup fix. 

“You know that stuff tastes like candle wax?” Alfred said, licking his lips as he pulled away from Arthur with a groan. 

  
“No, Alfred. I had no idea.” Arthur sarcastically remarked, biting his own red coloured lips that were covered in lipstick to keep from smiling at the American, who was living up to his role with the pigment surrounding his mouth. Arthur allowed himself to grin at his work. 

“Did you also know that you look great in these?” Alfred said, reaching down to lift up one of Arthur’s legs to show off the tights. Arthur rolled his eyes and wished for a second that this wasn’t his strange reality. 

Before they left the room, Arthur cleaned up what he could of the pigment off his lips and skin before he turned to Alfred, who gave him the dumbest grin. Arthur shook his head and took the handkerchief that he used and helped Alfred out a smidge. Once they stopped by Anri’s she took a second to fix everything and sent them on their way with a grin. 

The main filming room was a much better temperature than the rest of the warehouse. The rest of the people in the room glanced at the pair and then went back to business as usual, realizing that nothing was up or unfamiliar. After getting set up, they went straight into the next part of filming. 

At the time of the rehearsal the costumes were not completely finished, meaning that in order to actually start filming the real scene, they would have to be finished like they were now instead of like last time. Also unlike last time, the scene went much more smoothly. 

This time every line, touch, and kiss was done with precision and accuracy, and there was no possible way to make Marc any happier. Which made everyone else happier to leave the place that was nearing 105 F. It was getting to be impossible to keep makeup on without it dripping off which was making Arthur nervous, until Marc finally called an end of the day. With that said, Arthur automatically rushed off to the dressing room, not even bothering to wait for Alfred in his own moment of panic. 

Alfred had noticed this and said behind to hear Marc’s final announcement before he fled the area as well, “Tomorrow we start on the minor musical scenes. Come prepared.” 

Alfred then went to find Arthur in the dressing room clawing at his chest again.

“It’s just hard to breathe in the thing.” Arthur insisted as Alfred came around to undo it. 

“Don’t blame ya, Artie.” Alfred reassured, and continued to help Arthur strip out of the costume and slip on some regular clothing. For Arthur that consisted of a pair of a normal pair of jeans and a shirt that hung loosely on his aching torso. 

“I never asked why your Mum called earlier? Am I allowed to know?” Arthur found himself playing around with the hem of his shirt, sitting back in his chair and watching as Alfred undressed from his stage costume. It was fairly odd not having to turn around anymore, but it meant he had a good view all the time now. 

“Apparently, news got out that there is going to be a show for this movie and she wanted to go.” Alfred explained, setting the rest of his costume on the pile they started in the corner of the room piling one thing on top of the other. 

“It’s already in New York, isn’t it?” Arthur realised, “She will go, won’t she?” 

“Duh, come on, Artie! Mom loves to go to these things! It's like going to one of those school plays when you are little, for her.” Alfred smiled and opened the door to let Arthur out of the room, he followed behind him down the hall and out to the parking lot.

“It starts in a few weeks, right?” Alfred asked, Arthur nodded. 

“As far as we know it does. I doubt this is like a school play though.” Arthur expressed, sliding into the vehicle alongside Alfred. . 

Alfred then had made the brilliant idea to go grocery shopping when he was driving a sports car with absolute rubbish storage. 

“Alfred, love, I do happen to think you are the dumbest being I’ve ever met sometimes.” Arthur gave the bag to Alfred and leaned on the front hood of the car. 

“Have many ‘beings’ have you met? Plus I’ve been dumber, ya know.” Alfred shrugged, setting everything down in the car securely and pulling Arthur off the hood. He let go of his hand before walking down the boulevard with Arthur at his side. 

“Now where are we off to?” Arthur asked, throwing his sunglasses to the top of his head as the sun was already dripping below the horizon. 

“The beach. People are leaving at this time so there will be less people and we can just sit, because it is still hot as fuck.” Alfred reasoned, he threw off his shoes when they reached the sand, Arthur followed in suit. 

“It would be nice to get home before we cannot see a thing though.” Arthur said, catching up to Alfred after stumbling to get his shoes off. 

“It’s just for a minute, Artie” Alfred said, “Also, can you hold this for me while I walk?” Alfred asked, Arthur just rolled his eyes and took whatever Alfred had just handed him. 

Arthur looked down to see that he was just holding Arthur’s hand, “Is this another one of your bloody awful pick up lines?” 

Alfred laughed and swung their arms back and forth and they held hands together. There was a little way to walk in order to get down to the water, but once they did Alfred abruptly sat them down tugging Arthur with him so that the smaller landed on top of the American. 

“Does this count as a date?” Alfred quizzed, after a few minutes of lying in the sand with Arthur on top of him. 

“I suppose.” Arthur mumbled, perfectly content with not saying anything and just sitting looking at the Sun before it completely disappeared below the ocean. 

“Hey, Arthur?” Alfred asked again.

“Hmm?” 

“Can I tell you more pick up lines?” Alfred bit back a laugh. 

“Alfred, I swear to god.” Arthur faked being angry but he could tell that Alfred saw through the act. 

“I can then, right?” 

“Absolutely not.” Arthur said sternly, but Alfred gave a puppy face which ultimately made Arthur cave. 


	12. “I faced it all and I’ve stood tall; and I did it my way…”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were about to start the scene, when Alfred stopped it himself. 
> 
> “Wait! One second, please?.” Alfred urged,, walking over to where Arthur was suspended and where the equally sparkly actor would catch Arthur. Many pairs of eyes followed Alfred’s form but he couldn’t get himself to care, especially when Arthur was on the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from My Way by Frank Sinatra. I have a ResPeCC for the Oldiess

**Chapter Twelve: Film**

As soon as the designers had everything sorted out and everybody was dolled up, they were all thrust back into the spotlight. Marc had spent the night figuring out an acceptable set up for all the parts, to make sure that they didn’t miss anything important. His genius idea, however, was less than what anyone had expected. They would film all speaking parts in order from the beginning of the storyboard until the end of it, even though some had already been done the day before. 

“We are going to start from scene one with Alfred after the voice over part, and then Antonio you will drop in for the next part. Quite literally.” Marc discussed. “We will do every scene including the major dance scenes and use the footage from those unless the ones from the live performance are better, we’ll decide then.” 

Arthur watched as everyone got in position and looked intently at Alfred, who was sitting at a desk for the start of it. Antonio was attached to a bungee cord and harness suspended above Alfred’s set room. The set took up most of the production room, and had multiple rooms of the building that everyone was supposed to be in. Tino was another role, joined by Mathias, Berwald, and a character that wasn’t permanent.

Arthur was sitting on the sidelines when a presence joined him. Arthur was used to people walking up next to him and not saying anything or just making small talk. But this one said something, it wasn’t to Arthur but to himself.

“I swear to the fairies that if I have to be here any longer I might kill myself.” His voice, along with the group that Alfred was currently talking to in front of the camera, had a strong foreign accent. 

“Tell me about it.” Arthur mumbled back, it took a minute for the other to answer. 

“You are here often I take it?” The man said back, he was about the same height as Arthur, but his hair was a much lighter blonde, so much so that it almost looked white. 

“Well, yes.” Arthur looked to the other and looked down at himself. The blonde man was dressed casually unlike Arthur, who was in the next set's full outfit. “Also, did you happen to say fairies?” 

The man’s brows raised a little and he took on the same pose that Arthur was known for, a simple cross of the arms and a straight face. 

“Yes, fairies are real. ” His voice was deeper than expected, but it probably suited him. 

“Finally, someone else agrees.” Arthur answered satisfied. 

Next, the blonde stuck out his hand, “Lukas.” Arthur took it and introduced himself as well. 

“I hate to pry, but I am curious as to why you are here?” Arthur wondered, watching as Lukas looked at the set that was currently housing a plethora of activities that the British man hadn’t been paying attention too. 

“For the idiot playing the piano.” Lukas brought his eyesight back to Arthur. 

“Mathias was his name, yes?” Arthur looked for him in the scene. He was happily playing at the piano as Alfred sang a few bars of something, that was being ‘awed’ by Tino, Berwald, Mathias, and the extra character that was about to exit the scene. 

“Unfortunately, yes.” Lukas sighed and started explaining the backstory behind it all. Arthur listened with interest as Lukas recited what he remembered of the experience. Apparently, they had met sometime back in Lukas’ home country of Norway, whereas Mathias had travelled from Denmark for a film or orchestra that was appearing in Norway, where they just so happened to run into each other. Sometime down the road the Danish man managed to talk the Norwegian into moving to America with him, and the rest was history. 

The Norwegian then went on to subtly rant about the amount of see-able fairies in the area. People who walked passed by the two must have thought they were mad or crazy for discussing magical creatures so openly. 

The scene playing out before them was about to end when their conversation moved on to something else. Arthur had been in the middle of a sentence when he was so rudely interrupted by Alfred and Mathias. There had been a cut in filming and a quick break so that another person could make their way onto the set. 

“Hey, Norge!” Mathias called and threw an arm around Lukas, who adopted the same look Arthur had taken on when Alfred did the same thing. But for Arthur it was really irritating his shoulder wound though he couldn’t do anything about it at. Lukas tried for a second to get the arm off his shoulders as well but it was useless considering the man was much more muscular. 

“I see you met, Lukas!” Alfred said. 

“Yes, and we just so happened to be speaking before you so rudely came and said ‘hello’. So if you don’t mind.” Arthur snapped, as Lukas used both of his hands to lift Mathias arm off him. Arthur opted for doing the same thing for two reasons, one that it hurt, and two to keep suspicion on the down low. 

The four spent a minute talking, in other words arguing, about nothing in particular until the American and Dane were called back to finish the scene. 

Arthur and Lukas were suddenly distracted from their earlier conversation by whatever was happening on set. It was simply a blonde man with a strong polish accent, with a bit of valley girl slang, standing in a dangerously short outfit and hitting high notes that a man usually wouldn’t be able to reach. But he was doing it like a god. Marc was impressed. 

“Why am I even here?” 

“Join the club.” Lukas said, turning his attention from the scene to the man that had just entered the main production hall. Arthur just nodded in agreement, even though he worked there, sometimes it was just too much. 

“I take it you know him?” Arthur asked, motioning to the man in the very short outfit who was possibly pretending he was Mariah Carey. Although nobody could really tell what was going on in his head. 

“Yes.” The man said. 

“Welcome to the complaining corner.” Lukas offered, they each shared their thoughts of the actors that they had to deal with on a daily basis. Arthur and Lukas had already conversed earlier about the ordeal so they just listened to their new friend Toris talk about Feliks. The Lithuanian had introduced himself as well as the man in green on set. 

Minutes later, after they had been in conversation for a while, Arthur was finally called to join everyone else on the second set in the room that was adjoined with the current set. It was just across the way in the large room, so filming the scenes right after one another would be easier.

The set across the large room was an equally big stage for a big dance scene. Toris was more than happy for Feliks’s part to be over, but just as surprised as Lukas to see that Arthur was getting onto the stage and being given orders. All they had learned about Arthur was that he was here a lot, was wearing funny clothes, and Alfred, one of the lead actors, casually wrapped an arm around his shoulders, but he never explained that he was actually a role in the film, leaving Lukas confused and surprised. He just thought that Arthur always must’ve dressed in sparkles and corsets, with the tights as an added style bonus. Feliks, who was finished with his cameo, was just jealous of the fishnets, but at least he got green sparkles instead of boring silver. 

Anri met with Arthur quickly for a check up and additional accessories, before he was escorted up into some sort of the stunt rafters above the stage, where he would make the epic entrance from the top of the screen. 

Below him, a huge group was already gathered on the stage listening to orders that people everywhere were giving out, including Marc and Antonio, who was on the side for the scene. It was like a sea of colourful people under him, from his perch above he could see that it was definitely a height that he didn’t want to fall from, even though it wasn’t terribly high up.

Francis was in charge of the whole escapade, seeing as he led the hoard of dancers and background singers, encouraging them to face the camera and complete their parts without flaw. Arthur was able to observe what was going below him from his position in the rafters, his only task was to sit and wait for his cue. At the same moment, Alfred was in the middle of a take saying his lines to the Finnish man while the camera focused on him as well as slivers of what was going on behind him. For a while after that, Alfred was out of the spotlight to make room for the rest of the large dance scene that was happening, the biggest one of the production that went on for a staggering five minutes. Unfortunately, for Arthur the scene had to be redone once due to a lighting failure, which meant another five minutes of sitting in the rafters with one or two other people waiting for his cue. 

Francis, however, was having way too much fun with everything. Arthur figured he liked the idea of leading a bunch of men and women in a dance that was supposed to be sexy. Marc didn’t seem to have a problem with it though. Luckily, as soon as the fancy, colourful dance was done, the second camera locked itself on Alfred and the group of actors around him as they talked through the script like it was a book that they read millions of times. 

“Cut. Prepare for Arthur.” Marc called, signalling for the two in the rafters with him to get him situated before the camera started rolling again. This time it would be all eyes on him during his solo part that was to be backed up by a few on the floor. 

People outside of the stage and main film area watched as the lights for the main stage dimmed and Arthur, high above everyone else, would be lowered down. The musical number, that had been lovingly dubbed ‘his song’ was expertly recited as galloped around the floor, in the part that everyone rehearsed on some of the first days of the production. It was exciting to finally see everything come together for the first real take of the scene. The only snag was that there would be no cuts throughout the whole scene, which made Arthur nervous, but as long as he was on the stage floor if they needed to stop something then he could just do it on the floor instead of a full run down from the rafters. 

Arthur’s eyes drifted over to Alfred as he was doing the main singing part that ordered for him to prance his way around the room while playing his part. Although, unlike Francis, he wasn’t allowed to look into the camera. Speaking of Francis, Arthur was lifted onto the mini stage that was on top of the big one all around them, the same one that Francis was standing on. They did their short banter scene before ducking down to complete the outfit change stunt, though instead of talking about something normal they had to say their lines, which caused another glance to be placed over at Alfred, who waited patiently while the scene played out in front of his eyes. 

Unsurprisingly, Arthur was freaking himself out again, it had finally arrived at the point in the production where he had to strip everything in seconds in order to make it to the next part, and every little part of it was on camera, as well as in front of Francis. 

All the blonde could do now was hope to all the Gods that no pale skin-coloured bandages came loose and none of the makeup rubbed off while he was smiling and dancing around in a group of people dressed in suits grinding all against him, throwing money, and lifting him up for the high energy performance. 

Somehow Arthur even managed to make his voice loud enough for the entire room to pick up on without using a stage microphone during his main performance, seeing as it would be impossible to put back on during the costume change without a cut. 

Francis was staring at Arthur and saying the parts he needed to when he noticed it. Of course, he couldn’t say anything since they were in the middle of shooting, but he definitely saw it, and just wondered if Arthur knew that he had seen what Arthur was hiding. 

It took approximately thirty seconds to do an entire wardrobe change, with the help of one other person, before Arthur and Francis had to be out in the crowds and camera to impress. Francis thought it must have been his imagination because whatever he had been there before was certainly gone now and Arthur was doing his thing like nothing was a problem. If what Francis had seen affected Arthur, it wasn’t obvious by a long shot. 

Marc called the take to cut just before the part where Alfred and Arthur were about to dance in the middle of all the other actors. It was quick but it was just for a sound check which left everyone in their ending places just to start back up like nothing happened, it was a real life pause. 

Alfred had been so used to talking to Arthur during their dancing bit that saying the lines of the script was like a normal conversation between him and Arthur. Albeit Arthur wasn’t so suggestive in real life, and they usually didn’t dance when they talked to each other. 

“Oh?” Arthur said, altering the lines the slightest bit, though it was something that happened a lot. In fact, up until now he was sure that every person that had talked in the first twenty minutes changed their own lines to fit both themselves and their characters at least ten times. Arthur was editing his lines as he was being dipped by Alfred again, there was light clapping from behind the camera where Antonio was praising his own work, as well as his dancers, as everyone dipped their partners in sync. 

Not too long after their dance together, there was one final cut. In that time, Arthur prepared himself to fall off the high rise that he had started out the scene on. The script called for him to fall and pass out, seeing as it was a recurring theme in the program. It was a risky shot, but Marc ordered for the camera to film from three different angles, one from afar, the next from the top and then the point of view of the people on the ground.

Alfred was back to hating life, and it showed in his cut of the take, but Marc never did anything about it and rewrote it in the script. 

“I am not going to change the fact that you look either depressed or that you could kill. In fact, deepen that and make it seem like something was wrong with that part of the dance, maybe that you could tell something was up.” Marc instructed. Alfred elaborated. 

Alfred’s cause for obvious pain and fear was that Arthur was having to fall into another person's arms from a high distance. But the director and staff didn’t find it to be a problem, it had briefly been practised before, the key word there was briefly, and now they had to hope that the first shot went perfectly and without Arthur being dropped. 

They were about to start the scene, when Alfred stopped it himself. 

“Wait! One second, please?.” Alfred urged,, walking over to where Arthur was suspended and where the equally sparkly actor would catch Arthur. Many pairs of eyes followed Alfred’s form but he couldn’t get himself to care, especially when Arthur was on the line. 

“Okay, when you catch him make sure it is nowhere near the shoulder blades or middle of the back.” The man with light blonde, almost white hair like Gilbert’s or Lukas, and the rest of the crew was confused as to why Alfred was telling him this information, it was just a simple drop and catch. 

“There is a reason, Da?” The Russian actor asked, looking to Alfred then up to Arthur. Arthur was trying to hold his breath and keep the heat off his face, whether it was because of anger at the American for nearly exposing his secret or just his amount of care, he didn’t know but regardless tried his best to keep the colour off of his cheeks. 

The guy that was about to catch Arthur was a burly Russian man that went by the name of Ivan, most found him creepy, but he wasn’t too bad once you got to know him. Alfred only knew him through his favourite club, the one that he took Arthur to that one time they got piss drunk and had to call Alfred’s butler to pick them up in the limo. Somehow the Russian and the American were both friends with Yao, who was the owner of the club, that’s how they met. 

“Yeah Arti–I mean Arthur, has a bad sunburn just wanted to tell ya. For safety purposes, ya know?” Alfred excused. Arthur took a much needed sigh and relaxed in his suspended throne. The actor nodded and prepared for the fall. 

Alfred backed away from the scene, he wasn’t currently in the part, but he stayed close by. It was about a twenty foot fall straight into one person’s arms, that Alfred was sad weren’t his, while the floor underneath was solid hardwood. Hence, a reason to cause concern, hell, there was even a medical staff just waiting around for everyday injuries and weee on high alert for certain stunts like this one. 

Arthur was, at the moment, regretting why he didn’t take the offer for a stunt double. Oh well, it was too late now. At the same time he was mostly relaxed, which is what Marc had said to do in order not to get hurt, but his calm state of mind came from the release of knowing that he wasn’t going to get hurt anymore just because somebody didn’t know where not to catch him. It also helped that Alfred managed to keep his most hidden secret, and the strong blue eyed man was standing idly by waiting. 

“Take two!” Marc called.

Alfred backed out of the main space and away from the view of any cameras that could pick up on him, without taking his eyes off Arthur, who was in the final moments of his number before he fell. People swarmed below him, still singing backup for Arthur, who was just now letting go, making Alfred’s heart jump. 

“Bloody hell, mate.” Arthur said, as Ivan set him down on the ground with a click of the heels that he was wearing for the dance scenes. 

“More careful next time please.” Arthur ordered politely smoothing out his outfit, to which the actor, who was put on spot, nodded. Ivan hadn’t caught him low enough and hit one of the many cuts on his back, hopefully it was still intact though. 

Marc just shook his head exasperated. “No, Arthur, buddy, you gotta let him carry you to the backstage, where uh–” Marc paused, looking to where the backstage was, “To where Alfred and Elizabeta are.” 

“Oh well, that's just bloody convenient.” Arthur rolled his eyes. One word to sum up what Arthur was feeling right now would be: irritated. One; because of the deep cuts on his back that were now throbbing and most likely bleeding and two; because Marc wanted him to do it yet again.

“Lower it!” Marc called up to the second story for them to lower the swing that Arthur fell out of. The smaller carefully climbed back on the thing and was lifted again at a decreasingly low pace. Once the cameras were all rolling again, the music started up again too. Restarting the fall meant restarting the final singing part, much to Arthur’s dismay. But it was for the official thing so he figured he’d deal with it.

Anyway, that time Arthur learned his lesson and was carefully carried to the backstage where he was let down for a minute, right next to Alfred as Ivan backed off from them a little, even though he would still be needed. The people outside of the backstage set were getting the next camera to put in the room and follow down the hall until it was Elizabeta’s turn for her lines. 

“Thank you, I might add.” Arthur said, facing Alfred as everyone whizzed around behind him putting things together and getting things set up for the next scene. 

“It was nothin’, Artie.” Alfred grinned, making sure that nobody was around or even noticed them in the corner. He turned them around so that his back would cover most of what anyone could see when he bent down the slightest bit to kiss Arthur just to catch him off guard. It was short and sweet, but it made Arthur want to slap the handsome American in the face. 

“Don’t do that here, you git.” Arthur snapped, not quite able to bring his hand to Alfred's face. 

“Why not? Anyone here is behind me and can’t see what I am doing.” Alfred tried to convince the Brit, who was just rolling his eyes. 

“Arthur! Where’s Arthur? We are ready for the next part.” Marc called, waiting with the camera man and the tall Russian to make their way to the next part with Elizabeta. 

“I’m right here, you blasted idiot.” Arthur called, and turned his head back to Alfred for a second, “Careful, otherwise our director might take all of your lovely nicknames.” 

Alfred laughed, “I’m sure you can pull more out of that pretty head of yours.” 

With a giddy grin he went back out to the main part of the stage where camera two was about to pan to Francis acting afraid about Arthur’s fall, while a fourth camera screened the whole area. As soon as Alfred got back to his place next to Tino, Berwald, and Mathias, camera three started back up, filming the characters reactions to Arthur’s character falling off the floating chair. 

Arthur joined Ivan, Marc, and the cameraman with a hint of red stained to his cheeks. Marc and the rest of the two just thought that Anri had gone a little crazy with the blush highlighter. Either way it worked because he was supposed to be passed out and carried through a hallway of extras. Arthur acted as if he was in a comatose state when he was lifted into Ivan’s arms, which was weird enough as it was, but only until he was set down and Elizabeta’s character made herself known in the room and acted out her part. 

Alfred was already done with everything he needed to be for that certain part, but Arthur still had yet to join him. In the meantime, he was sat on the end of the stage, still in his costume blazer, his top hat sat on the stage next to him, waiting for Arthur until he was joined by a large group of co-stars. Ivan included as he had already made his way out of the backstage, meaning that Arthur was probably fixing something with Eliza or Marc was talking to him. 

The large group, however, consisted of a variety of people, but the conversation was led by Francis as always.

“You and Angleterre should come as well, Amerique.” Francis started, standing to one side of Alfred as a bunch of other people gathered around his sides to sit on the end of the stage with him. 

“Come to where?” Alfred asked, mistakenly joining himself in the discussion. 

“Friday, the majority of us are meeting at Yao’s for a cast get together type-thing.” Mathias said, sitting next to the Norwegian, who was reluctantly still there. 

“Or in other words, it's just an awesome excuse to party!” Gilbert yelled from across the stage before making his way toward Francis. 

“Who arranged this?” Alfred asked, not wanting to be the one to help pick up the next day's messes. 

“Francis.” A large number of people sitting next to Alfred said, pointing at Francis.

“Guilty.” Francis winked and clicked a heel on the floor. “I have the money, so why not?” 

“Don’t boast Frog, it’s impolite.” Arthur said, walking out of the backstage set, his arms crossed, and heels clicking on the floor. 

“You don’t have any problem either.” Francis reminded, in return he got a nasty look from Arthur, who shoved his way past the people sitting next to Alfred to make room for himself. 

“Well, I’m in if you are paying for the first round, Francy.” Alfred loudly announced, “What about you, Arthur?” 

Alfred turned his head to his right to look at the Briton, who had an irritated look, or it was just his face nobody could tell. 

“Fine.” Arthur rolled his eyes as Alfred started cheering. 

“Like, the more people the more rounds!” Feliks cheered, earning another facepalm from Toris. 

“I’ll drink to that!” Gilbert agreed along with a few other people in the room. 

“Hey!” Marc snapped, seeing the cast just sitting around. “We have work to do.” 

A few people moved but stopped once the cameraman was right in front of the group. It was a constant occurrence to have photos taken of individual people for magazines or something that was of interest to the movie, but this time someone figured it was time for a group picture while everyone was still in costume and makeup. The first picture was a simple one which just consisted of everyone boringly sitting in their seated places and giving a dull picture perfect smile. 

The second and third, however, were something Alfred started and a trend followed. Alfred managed to change another boring picture into a much more fun one just by pulling Arthur into a dip-like dramatic pose. Arthur followed along, but only because he trusted Alfred not to drop him on the floor, somehow they managed to do so in a way that it didn’t look awkward. 

Once some saw they joined in, Feliks managed to pull a pose that Francis and Arthur did in the film during their shared part, making an unwilling Toris go along with it. Gilbert had situated himself between Elizabeta and Roderich, who had just gotten done finalising the pieces that they played for the film. Gilbert had thrown an arm around both of them and urged them to both kiss him on the cheek. Roderich rolled his eyes and did it while the Hungarian giggled, secretly preparing to smack him upside the head with her mystical frying pan. 

Francis was winking and blowing a kiss to the camera. Feliciano had climbed onto Ludwig’s back and held onto him with only his legs, Ludwig just tried his hardest to keep his straight military-like face. On the other side of the stage Antonio had a rose in his mouth and dipping Lovino so that he almost touched the floor just like in their dance toward the end of the film. Tino was trying to look comfortable next to Berwald, who had a look that could kill. Mathias had pulled Lukas into the picture even though he wasn’t in the movie, he trapped the blonde Norwegian in a headlock. In the very back Ivan stood with a totally not terrifying, definitely normal look. Even some of the background dancers did their own things to spice up the picture. 

After that fiasco was finished a roar of laughter broke out in the room before Marc started ordering everyone around again. Arthur couldn’t help himself, he sat up from the mildly uncomfortable position that Alfred held him in and giggled a bit to himself as he stared at Alfred, who was simply laughing along with all the rest of them. 

Once the group broke apart there were a few additional pictures snapped that Alfred and Arthur hoped weren't of them, as their ending pose left them in a strange straddle-like position. 

“There’s only one scene left to do before we can go home, right?” Alfred said, once he’d stopped laughing and focused his attention back to Arthur. 

Arthur rolled his eyes and shook his head with a grace that only he could pull off. The Brit then lifted himself from Alfred and started walking with clicks down the hall. Halfway through the first hallway to get to his dressing room he grabbed onto the wall slipping off the shoes that couldn’t have been good for his feet, no matter how well they fit. He could hear Alfred running down the hall after him. He caught up to Arthur at an alarmingly fast pace and walked down the rest of the halls chatting to Arthur about the changes that Marc had put in the next scene that they were doing. Arthur hadn’t been too happy about it, but it was something he would just have to live with. 

It was a lyric change and a costume change offered by the designers department regarding a historical inaccuracy in the one he had to wear currently, meaning for Arthur was to wear yet another corset that he thought he could get away from. A lyrical fix could be much worse though especially when you practise one thing for a while and then there is a sudden switch, things can get confusing. Fortunately, it wasn’t a huge change, it was still the same lyrics but just said differently, was what Arthur learned when he and Alfred were nearing the dressing room. 

The outfit was essentially the same but different in terms of there being a tie in the back and clips in the front of the costume. 

“That’s weird.” Alfred said, standing in front of Arthur instead of behind him to help him with his outfit. 

“It’s painful. Get a move on, would you?” Arthur frowned, while Alfred tried the second clip to fasten it. 

“Can you stop breathing for a second?” 

“Excuse me for being a human and needing to breathe.” Arthur attempted to close his arms in a cross but was blocked by Alfred’s hands so they just fell back to his sides. 

“Just hold your breath or somethin’.” Alfred suggested. 

“Brilliant, just brilliant, this is painful enough as it is.” Arthur snapped with sarcasm. 

“Sorry, Artie.” Alfred apologised, giving up with the clip. 

“Wait.” Alfred said, after a few seconds, waiting and standing in front of the angered Brit. “It goes under your jacket thing, so if I just loosen the ties in the back, then it won’t be that obvious that it’s not doing what it’s supposed to.”

“Like you are now?” Arthur and Alfred turned at the sound of another voice at the door that was now opened, to no surprise it was Marc.

“Oh hey, dude.” Alfred said, hoping that the director didn’t hear his plan. 

“Do it right Alfred or I’ll get the actual assistant that is supposed to be here.” 

“No! It’s cool. I’ll get it.” Alfred panicked, answering at the same time as Arthur. 

“Please, don’t bloody do that.” Arthur groaned, turning his torso to the door, which happened to be a big mistake. Alfred, though, was quick to stand in front of Arthur.

But just not quick enough. 

“That’s no sunburn, is it Kirkland?” Marc’s eyes were wide, the Briton and American were just glad that there was a piece of clothing and fx makeup covering Arthur’s back as they fought over how to put on the damn outfit. 

“Close enough?” Alfred squeaked, hoping he could play it off as his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. 

Arthur should have been in full panicked. But night after night of thinking of cover ups, even when Alfred was present in his life, he still thought of them out of habit when it took a little longer to sleep than other times. 

“You know the bloody designer that was in here before Alfred was?” Arthur wasn’t lying about what he thought up next, but it still wasn’t true either. 

Marc nodded and opened his mouth to say something before Arthur cut him off.

“The girl clearly hasn’t a clue of how to put one of these things together!” Arthur said, moving away from behind Alfred, throwing the material that he was holding on to the ground with a muted thud. 

“And that’s what happened?” Marc spoke quietly, pointing to the severely dark black and purple bruising around Arthur’s ribs that had only been getting worse due to the dancing and costumes. Alfred was only trying his best to not hurt Arthur, but sometimes he just couldn’t help it. Arthur never blamed him for that pain though, that blame was reserved for somebody else. 

Arthur nodded, taking his robe from where it was hanging on the vanity mirror, and taking a seat in his signature chair that, as of recently, had his name engraved on the back of it. Alfred stood close to Arthur messing with the costume jacket that Arthur had thrown on his arm to keep it off the ground. 

“It’s not broken, is it?” Marc asked wryly. 

“Broken, no. Fractured, yes.” Arthur watched as Alfred grabbed the red corset from the floor and tore open the back of it, just to get all of the strings undone. Arthur waited, wringing his hands together for Marc to answer. 

It took a few moments but it did happen, “And you’ve been filming and going through dances this entire time, despite that?” 

Arthur nodded, not having anymore to say. He stood up when Alfred motioned for him too. 

“Jones, put that thing on like you said you were going to and uh–” Marc turned just in time to catch one of the assistants to a different actor. “Get me Arthur’s designer from the costume department.” He spoke strictly to the assistant, who quickly nodded and continued down the hall in the way she was originally going. 

“Meet me on the next set when you are ready.” Marc gave a broken smile, closing the door that he never fully opened, and made his way down the hall. 

Marc had probably come down because Arthur and Alfred had been late in the first place, and had ignored the first one minute call from the assistant that Marc sent. Alfred let out a big sigh and relaxed that tension he had obviously been building up. 

“Scared, were you?” Arthur teased. 

“No. You should’ve been though.” Alfred denied. 

“Why? I’ve had that excuse for a while now, I’ll have you know.” Arthur refuted, allowing Alfred to slip the costume around him, with the strings on the back drastically loosened. 

“Never took you as one to make excuses so easily.” Alfred’s eyes were wide with the new information, he quickly moved around to Arthur’s front to adjust the clips. 

“Surprise.” Arthur rolled his eyes sardonically, staring up at Alfred’s face that was twisted into concentration as his fingers worked the metal clips that slowly, but lightly, squeezed together the blondes insides. 

“Cute.” Alfred mumbled, momentarily looking up, before going to the next clip down. 

“Excuse me? I am not cute!” Arthur scowled, watching as Alfred’s hands moved lower. 

Alfred just smiled. “I’m stickin’ with it, sorry Artie!” Alfred finished and pecked Arthur’s scowling lips. It was too quick for Arthur to reciprocate, even though Alfred didn’t expect him to. 

“Git.” Arthur snatched his silk jacket from the grasp of Alfred and slipped on his shoes. Luckily, they were not heels, unless they wanted to change  _ that  _ too. He crossed his arms and strutted out the door. 

Rarely was it that they used the same set of a scene twice, but now that they had filmed this particular scene during the rehearsal they knew how it was going to work. It was minor enough and worked out well the first time.

Arthur sat in his red outfit letting himself belt out the lines to the music that Roderich was conducting on the side of the stage set that they were on. Arthur couldn’t help but wonder if it would be the same on a real stage with real people watching them all. 

Arthur let himself be lifted by Alfred, the script never called for it, but during the first rehearsal Marc and the writers had changed it because they enjoyed the small details that the pair had added. 

Arthur was relieved when he learned that their final take on the scene was finally done. Just like the day before, Arthur had never been so quick to undress from the elegant costumes and get into Alfred’s car to head to the man’s house and pass out on his couch. 

Just as they were currently doing now.

Alfred slipped onto the couch horizontal to Arthur, who attempted to push him off again, which was useless. 

“I think we should have another actor movie marathon.” Alfred suggested, lifting Arthur so that he was on the inside of the couch and holding Arthur from behind, minding the problematic areas. 

“Of whom?” Arthur replied, shifting beside Alfred so that they fit together like puzzle pieces. 

“You, me, or Gil.” Alfred laughed, imaging Gilbert in some of his ridiculous roles. 

“Gilbert it is.” Arthur agreed, reaching out of Alfred’s grasp and finding the remote on the coffee table. 

Just like the Francis marathon, the Gilbert marathon was equally funny, though not disgustingly full of sex, but mostly comedy, almost like  _ Jackass _ . Leave it to Gilbert. 

Alfred was laughing, but was completely concerned with something else. The movie was consistently hilarious, but every time that Arthur would laugh it would end with him coughing like he had bronchitis. The Brit kept playing it off like everything was fine and it was just probably just something going around. 

Arthur knew that something was up but he didn’t want to do anything about it until it got really bad. That turned out to be a terrible idea. Arthur excused himself from the couch and made his way to the hall bathroom slowly to let Alfred, who was most likely watching his backside as he walked, watch. This also assured that nothing was suspicious.

Arthur made sure there was no sound for a second then flushed the toilet to make it sound like he was actually using the bathroom when in reality he was muffling his coughing with a tissue. 

“Bloody hell.” Arthur swore as he looked down at the white that was now stained red. “This isn’t happening again.” He tried to trick himself. Arthur was letting the water run as he tried to hold back from coughing as it was painful to his chest. 

“You good, Artie?” Alfred called, “I’m gonna unpause the movie.” 

“Don’t you dare, you git!” Arthur scolded. 

The Briton took a deep breath, shut off the water, and exited the room, turning into the kitchen before going to the couch. Just to buy himself a tiny bit of time. 

“Now whaddya doing?” Alfred asked, standing from the couch and walking over to Arthur and wrapped his arms around him in a backwards hug as Arthur was standing at the fridge looking for nothing in particular. 

“Drinks, snacks.” Alfred looked at him strangely like it wasn’t something he would think to do, “What with watching film after film.” Arthur reasoned. 

“Good idea!” Alfred exclaimed a little louder than Arthur was expecting. “I’ll get the drinks from the cellar, you get some food!” Arthur figured that Alfred was probably getting champagne or some kind of alcoholic drinks, which Arthur would be just fine with. 

Minutes later….. Alfred’s kitchen was on fire. 

“Arthur! What the hell, dude?” Alfred asked, coming up from the cellar and finding Arthur with a dishrag trying to put out his fire. 

“That bloody frog even told me that I couldn’t cook! And I didn’t listen!” Arthur panicked, letting Alfred get water from the sink instead, and then turned to look at Arthur.   
  


“Artie, babe, this is an avocado.” Alfred raised an eyebrow and grabbed a washcloth to pick up the burnt avocado, showing it to Arthur. 

“It doesn’t look any different?” Arthur was dumbfounded. 

“Try not cooking anything, k?” Alfred offered, “Take Francis' advice?” 

“No way in hell would I take advice from that frog.” Arthur puffed, trying not to cough, it didn’t work. 

“Are you sure you're good, Arthur?” Alfred asked, throwing away the wet avocado, and putting down the towel, officially turning to Arthur. 

“I just got worked up is all.” Arthur assured. 

“Okay...” Alfred was hesitant before grabbing some already bagged snacks from the cupboard and leading Arthur by the hand to the couch to finish their marathon. 

It was a while before they stopped, figuring it was too late for a weeknight, even though it seemed to be a normal thing now. They never went back to the actual bed because sometimes the couch was nicer even when they were together. Somehow Arthur fell asleep before Alfred did, which left him to his thoughts. 

Alfred knew that Arthur was probably already asleep but he felt like asking anyway, “Do you ever think it’s too early?” 

“Mmm? What was that?” Arthur inquired, his head was using the taller’s chest as a pillow instead of his arm. Momentarily he felt bad for waking the sleeping englishman. 

“Do you think it’s ever too early?” Alfred asked, more optimistically. It was dark besides the dim glow of the tv that was paused on a black screen, the only sound was the shallow noise of Arthur breathing and the faint sound of distance crickets outside. It wasn’t cold with Arthur laying so close to him but it was chilly enough to want a light blanket. 

It took a minute or so for Arthur to answer in his dazed state. “For what, love?” 

“Ya know, a relationship, with you. I only met ya a month ago or something.” Alfred was doubting everything in himself. 

Arthur responded by easily and quickly, moving his head to be closer to the other blonde, but still not opening his eyes. “No. I think people have rushed into something way faster than we have.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” Arthur hid a smile even though he was sure it was invisible to Alfred, who didn’t have contacts or glasses on and it was dark. “Now, stop doubting yourself.”

It was quiet for a few more minutes, the green eyed thought that his other must have fallen asleep and was about to do the same. Hell, his eyes were still closed and his brain was already groggy. 

“Hey, Arthur?” Alfred asked, in the dark proving he wasn’t asleep. 

“Yes, Alfred?” Arthur questioned lightly, not bothering to fully wake himself up. 

“I love you.” Alfred said sincerely, getting Arthur’s attention. 

Arthur opened his eyes looking into Alfred’s to see if he was really dreaming even though it felt so real yet fake at the exact same time. After he saw that Alfred wasn’t kidding, he finally took that short amount of time to sort out his priorities. 

“I love you too.” It was quiet but audible, he could practically feel the tension and relief of Alfred as the happy American grinned his brightest smile. “Now, go to sleep, would you?” 

“No can do, Artie!” Alfred whispered, pulling Arthur closer to him, giving him a giant hug and whispering over and over those simple three words to Arthur. Arthur couldn’t help but laugh at the childish American that had somehow, in those past few weeks, started to mean the world to him. 

“While I do think that the couch is super comfy, I think the bed is better.” Alfred tried moving to sit up with Arthur on his stomach, which in retrospect didn’t really work at all. Instead, the larger of the two swept Arthur off the couch and carried him to the bed. 

“Night, Artie.” Alfred smiled and tucked himself in next to Arthur. 

“It’s one in the morning.” Arthur reminded, seeing the clock that was finally put in a sensible place.

“Good morning then!” 

  
“Oh, bugger off.” Said Arthur sarcastically. 

“Love ya!” Alfred decided that he loved to say it. 

“You too, you damn idiot.” Arthur rolled over to kiss Alfred, missing his lips completely. 

“God, I thought I was bad at seeing.” Alfred laughed as Arthur tried again and again before giving up and bringing his hands to Alfred's face to finally put his mouth in the right place. 


	13. “Denkst du vielleicht g'rad an mich Dann singe ich ein Lied für dich...”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After having run through the dance and deciphering the problems, Arthur and Antonio finally made a judgement call and asked a few pairs to stay behind to run it again while the others went on break. 
> 
> Out of one of those few was Feliciano and Ludwig, who were still having the same problem they always did. The bubbly Italian was highly ticklish and couldn’t be picked up without squirming. At one point, Antonio had thought that he fixed it but it ended up causing issues again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 99 Luftballons by Nena.

**Chapter Thirteen: Act**

The next day of filming started out relatively slowly, after costumes and makeup were complete everyone had moseyed their way into the large production room.

The room was full of idle chatter as some prepared to start practising the next scene for the day while others were to buckle down and wait for the next time they were needed, Arthur included. 

The Englishman sat on the sidelines watching as Alfred and a few others gathered on the stage to run through the tango scene. 

Some of the people who were sat waiting for up and coming scenes discussed different topics, including the production, in whispered tones. It was painfully hard to not notice them while they watched your every step and hung on your every word. However, this type of talk led Marc, Parcy, and other important people to go back to the drawing board and start something new or redo something else seeing as some of it was useful criticism. 

Arthur sat waiting for Marc to stop giving guidelines and orders to Alfred and the rest of the people on stage so that they could start the scene on time. Arthur rolled his eyes at Marc, as an experienced director himself, he knew that giving them directions now was crucial but sometimes useless, especially in instances where directors decide that they want to add something different at the end of the day or they want to redo a scene because they didn’t love the way something turned out, despite telling the actors to do so. 

Therefore, for today, Arthur stood around in normal everyday clothing because his part had been perfect but others had to redo things just because the director forgot to put details into the filming the first time. It was frustrating to say the least, but it ultimately made for a more polished film. 

“We’re starting!” Marc yelled, turning away from the people he was talking to. “I need two groups. Those of you in suits and the others of you in entire.” 

Marc looked down once at his paper and the drawings Parcy and done. “In this scene you are going to march forward toward your partner, a few will split off from the rest of the group because you will be representing Arthur’s character in this dance. Alfred, you are going to be in this scene too, but Tino, Berwald, Mathias, and Antonio are going to leave once the second group gets to their partners and they start the dance.” 

Nods from all around started and Marc signaled to Roderich, who told the players to ready their instruments before each person started doing their part. Arthur was fascinated with whatever was playing out in front of him. He resisted the urge to smile as Alfred shot a happy grin his way as he shifted through all the moves before leaving the whole scene and letting it go by itself. 

He was delighted to see that there were other men in skirts, which was great because he wasn't the only one any more, as well as people somehow having a generally good time even though they were filming a movie. 

To be honest, everyone was waiting for the details to be finished so that the most talked about part could start its production. It was a scene that Alfred and Arthur had missed in rehearsals for their improvised trip to New York. But at the pace they were going it seemed like nothing was going to get that far. 

“Get in two lines both facing different ways, Alfred out of shot please!” Marc spoke into his megaphone standing up from his seat to put people in place again, while Antonio was going over the exact dance steps. 

Alfred, after being called out, walked over to Arthur, who stood in the corner with his arms crossed. Alfred looked both ways up and down before pulling Arthur in a backwards hug and shoving his head in between Arthur’s shoulder and head. Arthur did his best to try to shake off the American before anyone saw, but it was useless and warm as the temperature in the building was near freezing temperature after the studio got the air conditioner working again. However, the cold temperature was perfect for dealing with the tight ass outfits that a few others did have to wear, though today that wasn’t Arthur. 

“Hands off git, someone may see!” Arthur scolded, trying to elbow Alfred in the ribs. Alfred just laughed at Arthur and pecked his cheek before let go. 

“Why can’t I, Arthur?” Alfred pleaded quizzingly with his lips turned up in a grin. 

“It’s just not a good idea until, well, after it goes through.” Arthur shifted his eyes downward so he couldn’t see the most likely disappointed face Alfred was probably giving him. 

“That’s okay, Artie!” Alfred said loudly, causing Arthur’s eyes to spike up to see Alfred’s understanding face still, as always, plastered with a reassuring smile. 

Alfred had to get back to work while Arthur was offered a chair next to Marc and a few other people who sat in the auditorium part of the theater. Arthur gladly took it to get a better view, even though Marc kept asking him his opinions of the new scenes he was putting in. 

Arthur wasn’t a huge talker but when it came down to films, it was his passion, so the detailed comments he gave would have to be enough. 

Marc nodded at something that Arthur just tweaked and called a cut before jumping up onto stage, he motioned for Arthur to come up with him. They were fixing some of the background dancers' stances with one another. For some it was deadly awkward, while others were fine, but just couldn’t get the correct handling on small lifts and moves. There was even a case of Feliciano being dropped, again, because he was having to be lifted where he was ticklish. Antonio had just about given up in that regard. 

Arthur followed Marc to the group of troubled dancers. He, for a second, looked around for Alfred, who was talking with Mathias and Gilbert at the side of the stage. He casually back tracked and went for his own dancing heels, as much as he hated them they fit well and were much better to dance in, and they made him just a little taller than he was normally compared to Alfred’s height. He quickly put them on as Marc looked back to find him, Arthur grabbed Alfred by his untied bow tie, dragging him away from the two and toward the other dancers. 

Alfred was a slight bit confused, but eased up to the situation once Marc started explaining and Arthur lined him up on the dance floor. 

“Kirkland, stop making googly eyes at Jones and start explaining. Antonio can help you.” Arthur lifted a thick eyebrow and rolled his eyes. Marc walked away and swung his hand at the cameraman to keep rolling through the practise bit. The couple looked to each other in confusion. 

“That’s what I mean!” Marc winked at Alfred, who just looked oblivious. 

“Get with your partners and make sure that there is enough space between you and the people next to you, si?” Antonio started, allowing Arthur and Alfred to get in position first.

“Follow them because I am done with you, mi amigos.” Lovino laughed darkly from a corner of the stage when Antonio declared the end of his reign even though he stayed close to narrate what the British and American were about to do, hopefully in a way that would make sense. The Spaniard had known Arthur long enough to know that he was shit at explaining something while doing another. 

“No, stepping on my toes, twit.” Arthur tut. 

“No promises, Arthur.” Alfred winked and looked up to motion for Roderich’s orchestra to start quietly and slowly so that Antonio could explain what they were supposed to do. Arthur rolled his eyes and decided to focus on what they really needed to be doing. 

“It’s quite easy.” Arthur started, doing the basic dance for the part they do together and watching all of the other people around him. 

“We’ll start slow.” Antonio contributed. 

“Toni and Marc say it’s the lifts and footing.” Alfred says, looking around at the feet of people around them doing a simple waltz. 

“Fine then.” Said Arthur coughing a slight bit by turning his head into his shoulder. Hopefully it wouldn’t get too bad over the course of the day. Without the costume it was harder to hide the pain because there was nothing constantly numbing his torso, it was hell but it was easier to hide even though today he got to wear an actual shirt. 

“Alfred, take the lead and Arthur, follow what Alfred is going to do, just like in the script.” Antonio led from the side. “Just like the rest of you let the first dancer take the lead first then switch after the first lift, switch in between every dip.” 

Alfred moved Arthur up into the air facing opposite of each other before turning Arthur around at a strangely slow pace for the actual performance it was for. Arthur guided Alfred’s hands to the perfect spot of his back to dip him perfectly.

“Alfred, we are also going to change the dip to a swinging dip.” Alfred was lost for a second when Arthur positioned himself back up again and held onto Alfred's shoulders to keep himself from falling backwards.

Antonio grabbed Lovino, who was scowling in the corner. Lovino seemed the least bit surprised at his sudden involvement thanks to his own boyfriend. Alfred watched intently and then let Arthur do the same thing. 

The people around them had gone still while watching the two groups. They did a simple sequence of two turns, two swinging dips, and two lifts, changing dominance between both people each time. 

“Why did you need us if you can do it so well?” Arthur asked, coming down from a lift and back safely on the ground with a clip and into Alfred’s arms. 

“More practise. That and you are able to lift Arthur in a way that may be beneficial to some pairs.” Antonio grinned and then held his foot in pain when Lovino decided that he held him just a second too long. 

“Plus my block headed brother doesn't listen to me most times.” Lovino complained, making eye contact with Feliciano and frightening him slightly.

“Fair enough.” Arthur mumbled, waiting for the watchers to get back into their groups to restart again. They all slowly went through the dance until they were ready to move faster. 

Alfred looked at the people around them as each time the music, along with the dancers, got faster. Some time after running through the dance six or seven times Arthur broke apart from Alfred to walk around and see if everyone was doing as they were supposed to, for if they were having trouble. In his rounds he recognised a few mistakes and went back to Alfred to give an example of how it might look. 

Arthur was completely entranced with Alfred in that moment. The dance called for each person to look into each other's eyes and know the dance with their bodies. Somehow it was just easy for them to switch the dominance of roles while dancing and Alfred seemed to know the exact right places to touch and hold. Arthur followed the sequence they were taught in a fast paced motion and dipping straight out of a turn. There was a minute when his and Alfred’s face was possibly too close for comfort, but the people around them didn’t seem to mind as they had to do close to the same thing, the moment was over in seconds anyway. Arthur tried to forget about it as he was lifted once more and swung around like a rag down then placed on the ground to leave Alfred’s arms, ending the dance. 

After having run through the dance and deciphering the problems, Arthur and Antonio finally made a judgement call and asked a few pairs to stay behind to run it again while the others went on break. 

Out of one of those few was Feliciano and Ludwig, who were still having the same problem they always did. The bubbly Italian was highly ticklish and couldn’t be picked up without squirming. At one point, Antonio had thought that he fixed it but it ended up causing issues again. 

Arthur and Alfred made their way over to the pair that was placed on the outer edge of the stage. It was a good place to be in the formation in terms of space, but it also meant that they were one of the closest to the outer aerial cameras where every mistake could be caught. 

“How would you normally pick the little dude up?” Alfred asked the blonde German, who stood stiffly as if waiting for orders like a soldier. 

The German was stern faced but seemed to lighten up when he was dancing with the amber haired man, who would not stop laughing when Ludwig picked him up near the stomach. As Ludwig had just demonstrated. 

“No matter vhat I try, he just von’t stop laughing.” Ludwig sighed, his accent voice coming through loud and clear even as Feliciano jumped up and down next to him. 

Alfred made his way to the back of Arthur and moved them so that he and the Briton were parallel with Ludwig and Feliciano. Arthur and Alfred, in their late night practises, thought up a new and safe way that Alfred could pick up Arthur without bothering the finally healing wounds that would forever stain Arthur’s back and shoulders. They didn’t think that they would ever have to share the way it was done though.

“Watch for a sec.” Alfred said, grabbing Arthur tightly, but not enough to bruise him. He grabbed at the part where the blonde's hips met his minimally toned stomach and lower pelvic bone, and lifted him just high enough, not going all out, to give a general idea of how it was done. Arthur was worried that Ludwig might be reluctant to try it because of how intimate they had to be to do it. 

“Oooh, how did you figure that out?” Feliciano wondered, acting generally interested. 

“Practise.” Arthur answered simply but sternly, not too sternly so that it would scare the Italian, but stern enough to get the point across. “Now try it.” 

Ludwig looked a little red in the cheeks when his fingers latched to the top of Feli’s hips and the main part of his hand rested strongly near the pelvic bone. For once, though, the little auburn haired man did not laugh even though he kept his normal smile. 

“Perfect!” Antonio cheered, walking over from a different group. 

“I did it, Antonio!” The Italian cheered, “Ludd, can we celebrate with pasta?” 

“Only if you can continue to do it.” Ludwig huffed, looking as if he was finished with everything. 

The orchestra had long stopped playing and was waiting for cue from Antonio or Alfred to start playing again. As they ran through the routine again, most everyone did it that time without fail. Unfortunately with all the time that Ludwig and Feliciano spent dealing with the lifts they were far behind in progress compared to everyone else in the dance, even before they started practise. 

Around seven in the evening, the orchestra had packed up, the extras, the cameramen, and all of the personnel left leaving a group of four and a lonely stage light. Before leaving last, Marc gave Arthur a spare key so he could lock up the building once they were done getting the German and Italian up to speed. 

“Okay, dudes, show us whatcha got so far.” Alfred clapped his hands together, giving a glance to Arthur, who was sat on the plank floor tying up his shoes. Ludwig nodded and the bubbly Italian twin smiled giving a high pitched ‘O.K’. The sandy blonde started the music from the speaker right after. 

Alfred smiled, helping Arthur off the floor, bringing him to the side of the stage so that they could watch what the couple had down already. They had grasped the concept of footing while dancing, but the lifts and dips were a bit shaky. 

The two made it about two-fourths of the way through before stopping abruptly confused or just lost as to what they were suppose to be. Ludwig seemed more irritated about it than Feliciano did, but Arthur had somewhat pegged him as a bit oblivious toward most everything. Kind of like Alfred, who also always had a stupidly wide grin plastered to his face. 

“I see.” Arthur said, clicking his way across the stage over to the two , gathering himself near them. Alfred ran up behind him. “Lov– Alfred, can you work on the next parts with Ludwig?” Arthur corrected, hoping the two didn’t pick up on his little mishap. Feliciano looked a bit sad when he was dragged away from the German, who just huffed and turned to walk toward Alfred, who had the same dance part as he did. 

“Follow what I do now.” Arthur instructed, making sure that the Italian could see it as he did a quick and easy run down without Alfred leading anything. 

Feliciano gave a eager nod and followed along the steps that Arthur did, trying not to mess up or confuse the steps. A random part of the music played in the background, but it was better than nothing even though it was farther ahead than they were. 

Arthur had only talked to the auburn haired man a handful of times, it was all work related or one or twice about Lovino and Antonio as they were all mutuals in one way or another. Yet it was still strange when Feliciano started talking out of nowhere while doing whatever the Briton did, as if it was silence Simon says. 

“Where did you learn to dance, Arthur?” He questioned, starting a normal conversation like they had been friends for years. 

“It’s quite a long story. Skip this part.” Arthur hoped that he wouldn’t have to keep talking to Feliciano, as he wasn’t great at not irritating people, but the Italian was nice enough to deal with his stern teaching, just very talkative like his blue eyed American that stood just across the way with the same recognisable smile painted to his face as he explained something to the straight faced German. 

“I love long stories! Sometimes Grandpa would tell Lovino and I stories about his adventures and they were always so fascinating~” The smaller rambled, “Then we made pasta! Wait, what was I talking about?” 

Arthur listened to the Italian while stopping what he was doing to watch Feliciano attempt the dance by himself. 

“How did you start acting then?” He asked, turning around as if Ludwig was guiding him through the dominant part that he was struggling with before. 

“That is also a long story.” Arthur recalled, crossing his arms and nudging the Italians leg slightly to fix his stance. 

“You know, most people think you’re scary, but I don’t think you're that bad!” Feliciano cheered, changing the subject, laughing as one of Arthur’s large eyebrows lifted in question.

“I had to tell Luddy the same thing because he isn’t that scary! It’s just his face.” Feliciano laughed like he was remembering something. Arthur uncrossed his arms to hold Feli’s in place so they wouldn’t wobble as he turned in a tight circle that made a shifting sound on the floor.

“While I do appreciate this, there is another matter we are working on, Feliciano.” Arthur reminded, escorting Feliciano from his jumbled happy thoughts. 

“I know! But, I can multitask!” His voice was quite high, making it perfect for high parts in musical scenes, furthermore he was also a capable dancer. 

“Alright then.” Arthur accepted, eyeing Alfred from across the room as his arms made their way across his chest again. 

“How long have you known Alfred?” Feliciano asked, noticing the distance stares that they gave each other from across the room sometimes. 

“Long enough.” Arthur grumbled. 

“–because it seems like he really likes you! Like the way Antonio looks at Lovi.” Feliciano blurted, and somehow it was still not enough the be heard from across the stage, which wasn’t surprising considering the size of it. 

“Well he better.” Arthur whispered to himself so only he could hear it. 

“What was that?” Feliciano urged, touching his hands to his hips and wiggling them from side to side. 

“Nothing. Try that again please.” 

“Like this?” He did the same thing again. 

“I’ve found our issue.” Arthur grinned, hopping back into a line with Feliciano, he looked scared for his life for a second, but lightened up when Arthur started explaining.

“This part must be done at a slower pace, because you two are getting ahead when you do this and slowing down at lifts.” Arthur discussed the problem, stationing his hands on his hips and slowing the pace of the movement. Feliciano followed perfectly, which allowed Arthur to step out of line again and perfect the technique that Feliciano had discovered.

“Jolly.” Arthur praised, earning another grin from the Italian, who was finally finished with the ordeal. The Englishman looked over to Alfred and Ludwig, who seemed to be in a deep conversation about a certain part. Arthur considered them not quite finished yet and turned back to the other man, who was counting the amount of strange white flags in his gym bag. “I don’t think they are don–” 

“Oooh wait, what is it like being a lead?” Feliciano quizzed, once again changing subjects like he was apparently known for. 

  
“Whatever you think it might be like, I assume.” Arthur answered. 

“It must be nice, right? You can tell people to get you things and the camera is always on you!” 

“Maybe some might like that,” Arthur paused, “I do not prefer it, however.” 

“But, why not?” Feliciano looked a bit confused, tilting his head to the side a little. 

“It is a long story.” Arthur excused, not meeting the smallest eye. 

“Ooh I love long stories! Wait, did I already say that?” Feli contemplated for a second before blowing it off and continuing, “One of my favorite long stories is one my Grandpa Rome—that’s what everyone calls him—told Lovi and me of the time he met a person who he called Germania and then he said they fell in love~” Arthur stopped listening halfway through as Feliciano rambled on and on about the story. The gentleman didn’t mean to be so distant, but he was a bit thrown off by the fact that the caramel eye coloured man expressed the concept so openly. How could he just talk about two men in love so openly, while Arthur couldn’t even let Alfred hug him anywhere in public because he feared what someone might say something about them?

“Do you love somebody, Arthur?” Feliciano asked, swinging a small handmade flag behind him.

“Isn’t that a bit of a personal question?” Arthur avoided answering. 

“Maybe, but I don’t think anyone should hide it. That's what Grandpa always said.” The Italian gave a shy smile looking across the room to Ludwig, who was working up a sweat with Alfred, who were doing some of the complicated steps that were associated with the third part. 

“How do you talk about something like that so openly?” Arthur tilted his head, envious of the man’s lack of confusion, a second later he waved it off before the smaller in the scripted t-shirt and capri' s could answer. 

“How about you explain the white flags instead?” Arthur was never good at making small talk, but he was a wizard with avoiding something awkward. 

“Just in case I need to surrender, of course! Ludwig says I shouldn’t, but I think they are helpful!” Arthur gave a small smile as the Italian reached into his bag and grabbed one giving it to Arthur, “Just in case you might need one!” 

Arthur smiled and took the flag giving it a little wave, before the music that was pre-recorded stopped and the two blondes across the floor stopped their own rehearsal. 

Alfred gave Ludwig a pat on the shoulder, telling him to take a break. Feliciano saw that they were done and skipped over to Ludwig, who resisted a smile as the small Italian started explaining  _ everything _ he had learned in just a collective number of minutes. 

Alfred laughed as Ludwig tried to listen to the nonsense that Feli was spewing about and placed himself next to Arthur, who was standing around with his face contorted in thought about what Feliciano had talked on and on about. His arms were locked in a crossed pattern. 

“Did you at least get something done?” Arthur started, interrupting Alfred’s thought process before he could speak.

“‘Course I did, Artie!” 

“Good.” Arthur walked away from Alfred, who was confused with the Brit’s actions as he hopped off the stage and made his way out of the main set. Alfred shrugged and figured that he just left something back in the dressing room. They still weren’t done with the rehearsal and he didn’t take anything with him so he couldn’t be going anywhere. 

Arthur was making his way down the long dark hallway holding in his urge to cough just until he was sure that Alfred wouldn’t follow him. The blonde allowed himself to slip into his dressing room and closed the door, locking it. As soon as he heard the click of the door he fell apart, wheezing unsparingly. 

He took a deep breath, “It’s just a cracked rib, nothing major.” Arthur reminded himself that it would get better, even though it was hard enough already. “And it’s minor enough that Alfred doesn’t need to know.” 

Arthur composed himself and grabbed a water bottle from the room to give him an excuse to leave the set room. He slipped into the bathroom on the way back to scrub the light spread of blood off his hand and filling the bottle he grabbed. 

The room was mostly quiet except for Feliciano continuing to explain everything as Alfred fiddled with the remote for the speakers that were placed everywhere in the facility. 

“Why are we just standing around, hmm?” Arthur asked, setting down his excuse and hopping up on stage snatching the remote Alfred had and pointed it backwards toward the control box for the music instead of at the speakers. 

“I knew that.” Alfred mumbled. 

“I know, dear.” Arthur nodded quietly, which sparked a grin onto Alfred’s face. 

“Hey, dudes, we are going to start it again!” Alfred called, turning his head backwards to see the two. 

“I apologise if Feliciano was being complicated.” Ludwig said, when he joined Arthur and Alfred. 

“He was quite fine, I assure you.” Arthur looked up at the taller then back toward Feliciano, who was standing behind Ludwig waving a little white flag. 

“Put zhat away, vould you?” Ludwig scolded, making Feliciano shake it faster, to which Ludwig put a hand to his forehead. 

“Please don’t hurt me, Luddy!” Feliciano pleaded. 

“I von’t ever hurt you Feli. How many times must ve go over this?” 

“Oh, Si! Sorry, Luddy!” Feliciano smiled, he stopped waving his flag and put it by the rest of their things before meeting the American and Englishman in the middle of the stage. 

Eventually, they are all ready to place it all together and Arthur just hoped that Feliciano could retain the information. Ludwig seemed to know what he was doing quite well, leaving Arthur content with Alfred’s work. 

The couples stood in a diagonal way so that there was enough room and they could each see each other without the mirrors that a normal dance studio would provide. There was probably one somewhere, but nobody knew where it was located. Arthur and Alfred started and led Ludwig and Feliciano through the first half, which only consisted of turns and a waltz-like dance that was simple enough to learn. The main concern was when the lead dancer had to lift the other over their shoulders and spin them back down to the ground and into one of Antonio’s swinging dips. Arthur got up halfway up before tapping Alfred a few times, silently telling him to put him down on the ground. 

Nothing was wrong, but Arthur just wanted to see how the other two would do without them. Alfred knew that nothing was wrong so instead of putting Arthur down on the ground he just secured him on top of his shoulders so that he could be taller and have a bird's eye view of the other two. Arthur should have been used to Alfred’s random shenanigans, but they were always a surprise. 

Luckily, the German and Italian were still going on without their leaders and completed the difficult step sequence in one go, without Feliciano laughing or falling, much to Ludwig’s relief. Alfred was delighted and Arthur couldn’t keep a small smile off his face when the two finally did it. 

“Awesome, guys! Now just keep doin’ that and that’ll be progress.” Ludwig nodded, and Feliciano smiled, jumping up and down in excitement, or just because of the energy already stored in him, just like with Alfred. Arthur and Ludwig didn’t know how they managed to deal with him all day. 

Arthur was still sitting on top of Alfred's shoulders when he dismissed their late night rehearsal that ended up going well past nine pm, which was much later than anyone had anticipated. 

“Would you be so kind enough to let me down now?” Arthur asked leaning down, holding the sides of Alfred’s face, to see him. 

“Nope!” Alfred grinned. 

“And why’s that?” Arthur inquired, settling with resting his forearms on Alfred’s wheat blonde hair and the signature piece that always stood up, Arthur just found it a bit charming. 

“Because this is fun and I don’t wanna.” Alfred paraded him around the studio as if Arthur was riding a very tall horse. 

“Oooh Luddy, can I have a shoulder ride too?” 

“Nein.” The blue eyed German sighed, stuffing a few things into his bag meeting the Italians pleading eyes. 

“Please?” Feliciano waved his white flag again. 

“Fine, but later.” The blonde caved, brushing some of the hairs that shifted during practise out of his face. 

“Okay!” Feliciano smiled, “Also, since it is after lunch, can we have pasta for a late dinner?” 

“Feli, we had pasta for dinner last night.” Ludwig reasoned to the Italian, who just pouted.

“But, pasta is yummy!” 

“Tomorrow we can.” 

“Okie Ludwig.” Feliciano said, following Ludwig out of the theater.

“Auf Wiedersehen.” Ludwig called to the American and Britain natives, who were fighting over something that wasn’t important as Arthur still sat atop Alfred’s shoulders. 

  
“CIAO!” The Italian waved, earning an acknowledgement from the two before they continued their petty fight. 

“I demand you let me down this instant, Alfred F. Jones, otherwise you will sleep on the couch.” Arthur crossed his arms, scowling even though he knew Alfred couldn’t even see him. 

“In my own house, Artie?” Alfred feigned hurt laughing a bit. “I think that’s a bit uncalled for.” 

“I think this is uncalled for and immature.” Arthur yelled. 

“I was just havin’ fun Arthur. Whaddya afraid of heights?” Alfred chided. 

“No, I just prefer the ground.” Arthur reasoned, squeezing Alfred’s head with his thighs until the other blonde tapped out. Arthur was then let down and made one last stop to the dressing room leaving Alfred out in the hall.

Amazingly, they made it back to Alfred’s dark mansion in one piece, and even more amazingly, Arthur didn’t make Alfred sleep on the couch because he apparently had a different plan. Alfred thought that the plan was much better than sleeping on the couch and much more pleasurable as well. 

Arthur was working Alfred’s shirt over his head as the American, whose lap he sat in, was making his hands busy with groping Arthur’s ass. There was a constant array of kisses being placed on each other's lips that were all sporadic and messy. The activities became more explicit as the night went on, however, right before they decided on round two there was a ringing from the bedside table where Alfred’s cell phone was. 

“Ugh, who could be calling now?” Alfred groaned, turning to bury his face in the crook of Arthur’s now bit up neck.

“It could be important, love.” Arthur ran a hand through Alfred’s soft blonde locks of hair. 

“But, what if it's not?” Alfred tried. 

“Well, it is going to stop ringing soon.” Arthur reminded, paping Alfred lightly on the head. 

“Let it.” Alfred concluded, “I’ll check it later.” Alfred kissed Arthur’s face, moving around to press more kisses everywhere, the sensation made Arthur laugh at the little tickling feeling. Alfred smiled against Arthur’s skin before Arthur reached down to find Alfred’s head again to initiate a heated, passion filled, kiss that the American ate up like chocolate. It didn’t get much farther due to both of them falling asleep before anything could happen. 

The phone rang a few times more after that, one of which only left a message. Something that did end up being important.

That morning started with a rude awakening. 

As much as Arthur was doing to cover up his issue that was most likely directly a cause of the fractured rib, sometimes it wasn’t enough. 

That morning in particular.

Arthur woke up coughing, getting blood all over his palms, Alfred was thankfully not awake yet, but he would be if this kept up. The Briton scrambled around for his clothing that was striped off last night before he found his way to the bathroom. 

After that was over for the most part, Arthur found that it was still dark outside. The clock on the side of the bed read three in the morning, giving Arthur another reason to head back to bed and slip under the covers like nothing had changed. He ended up keeping the t-shirt he had thrown on, just in case something similar were to happen again, before resuming his cuddled position next to Alfred, who was still soundly asleep still. 

The next time he woke up was the worst and by far the most inconvenient. Alfred was already up and dressed, which was a different sight that was definitely not always popular, especially on the weekends, but it wasn’t the weekend yet anyway. 

Arthur was, this time, woken up by his condition, Alfred gave him a look that was crossed between terrified and concerned. Arthur shook his head and held his hand to his mouth before lying back on the pillow. Alfred was eyeing the ever growing bruise on Arthur’s rib cage, but every time he would ask about it the blonde would just shake it off saying it was “nothing to worry about.” 

When Arthur sat back up again and started brutally coughing again he tried waving Alfred off, choking out that he should go make breakfast or something, but just as the Englishman was stubborn so was the American and he stayed standing next to the en-suite door, before pushing it opened a crack. What he saw next was something the spectacled blonde hadn’t prepared for, blood covered the hand that Arthur was using to cover his mouth, staining it with the bright colour. As much as Arthur tried, he could fully remove the stain from his hand. Defeated, he shuffled back to the bed down to catch his breath, hugging a pillow to his chest. 

Alfred stood where he was with wide eyes.

“How is anything ever going to get fixed if ya don’t tell me anything, Arthur?!” Alfred yelled, trying not to be threatening, but he was genuinely mad at the Brit for not telling him something so important. 

“It’s not like you can do anything!” Arthur fought back, trying to be just a threatening but his voice wavered and he choked through the whole thing. He tried to move the blonde hair out of his eyes using his wrist instead of red coloured hand, he pulled the white sheet over the rest of his bare skin with the other hand

Alfred moved his feet to duck into the bathroom to grab a towel, shuffling over to the Brit, who was hiding most of himself, besides his head and shoulders, under the sheet.

“Even if I can’t, you can still tell me anything.” Alfred said quietly and scooped Arthur’s shaking body into his arms, letting him sniffle.

“But I can’t do a bloody thing about it! It feels so useless.” Arthur hiccuped.

“It’ll be fine. You just wait.” Alfred reassured, tracing small patterns onto his boyfriend's back and letting him make his shirt wet with frustrated tears.

It was still early enough afterward when Arthur got himself cleaned up that they could still make it to the studio with time to spare. Alfred and Arthur parted ways to do different things as their usual routines required, but eventually came back together, meeting up in the dressing room to get costumes together and join everyone on the set. 

Upon walking into the stage set room, at the end of the long rows of sets, Marc stood going over different things with the personal and actors who were stretching or talking about nothing in particular. 

“Beilschmidt!” 

“Yes, sir?!” Both of the brothers answered at the same time, confusing the airhead of a director, who still somehow knew how to do his job correctly. 

“Ludwig.” Marc specified. 

“Oooh Luddy, you're in trouble!” Gilbert teased, earning a sigh from his younger brother as a winked and dashed to somewhere else. 

“Did you and Feliciano learn that part yet?” 

“Ja–” Ludwig started, before snapping his head up at the commotion that was happening at the stage door, along with everyone else on set. 

Alfred was teasing Arthur about something random to which Arthur was getting fussed about, they had momentarily forgotten about the problem they faced that morning and opted for getting into one of their normal arguments that consisted of Alfred or Arthur firing smart remarks at one another until they came to a conclusion or random non-harmful fist fight, those were usually saved for Francis though. 

Marc turned his attention from the German with slicked back hair to the two blondes in a petty slapping fest while walking down the aisle to the stage. 

“You two are late.” Marc declared, the rest of the room quieting waiting for an explanation. 

“No, we weren't, we were at least in the building.” Alfred smart-assed. 

“This bloke decided to start an unnecessary fight.” Arthur contributed, elbowing Alfred in the ribs, knowing that he wouldn’t do it back. 

“Whatever the reason, forget it and get on the damn stage.” Marc rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the rest of the people who were on the stage. Arthur rolled his own eyes, crossed his arms, and threw on a facade before joining the group dressed and ready for the stage. Alfred smiled and stuck near Arthur as they got a few looks from other cast members that obviously suspected things or just wanted it to be a thing. Arthur though he might get dizzy with all the eye rolls he had to throw toward people. 

“Listen up people! In order to stay on track, so that trailers and other stuff can come out on time, we are only going to do this scene once. Got it?” A mutual agreement sounded through the gigantic group of people; actors and extras alike.

“Then we will get into the next scenes costumes and meet on set six down the hall, where Francis and Gilbert will do their part.” When Marc finished a loud cheer and a few whistles could be recalled. 

Antonio set everyone up for a quick run that would only go once before moving on, meaning that if it didn’t work once they wouldn’t do it again. Everyone was set up and ready when Arthur said his part and the music started when he dragged Alfred into the center of attention with him. The whole scene went quickly enough to where there was no way to check if everyone was doing what lifts or turns and dips that they were supposed to. Marc never yelled cut so he had to think that everything was going as planned. 

There were many different cameras filming at many different angles, which was a definite for this type of film where different parts would be put into the film where they needed to be or whatever looked nice and didn’t get in the way of a script line. 

Once they finished, there was a relieved sigh and cheer that could be heard as people ended and jumped off the stage to start the next scenes. Gilbert and the blonde frog were up first to film two different parts and then afterwards was Alfred, Arthur and Tinos part, in the scene with Arthur’s favourite, most comfortable, costume. 

Arthur watched in amusement from the side of the stage as Francis and Gilbert were running around with a bunch of other dressed up people singing a song that couldn’t have been more ridiculous for the two of them. It was even better considering Gilbert couldn’t sing and Francis was always just way too into it. When that hell was over with, Alfred was rolling on the floor laughing with Elizabeta. Arthur excused himself, getting to his dressing room before his pesky rib started causing issues again.

Alfred knocked on the door a minute later making sure that Arthur was okay and getting a wary ‘yes’ from Arthur. They headed back out to the set where they were caught by Marc’s PA, who took them to change for their next scene, that Arthur was far too happy about, mostly because it was easy and comfortable. 

Once Francis, Gilbert, and a few others finished up their part Arthur and Alfred were put onto a set that Tino was already waiting on, casually smiling and trying to not look scared next to Berwald, who was looking protective, but not in a bad way. In the middle of the scene Arthur started coughing again, he played it off as a cold when Marc asked why, though. He tried to avoid Alfred, who was giving a scared, although caring, look from the balcony of the set. 

“Restart.” Marc yelled, giving Arthur a minute to recuperate. Once he was ready Alfred said all of his lines with crisp perfection. Just as he did in the practise run a week or so ago, he was able to make Arthur laugh with his dramatic declarations. Whether Arthur’s laughter was real or fake, nobody could tell, not even Arthur, but Alfred’s smile made him want to believe it was real even in the pained state he was currently living in.

He knew that there would be something hanging over his head for the next twenty-five days until the file went through, that didn’t help with his anxieties or pain relief. But, when that day came, he figured, everything would all be over and that part of his life would be behind him. 


	14. “Dancing all alone in the morning light, the sunshine riptide, you came back like a wave when I was feeling alright…”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let’s go swimming, since last time was such a bust.” The blonde’s smile turned as Arthur moved his hand to set on Alfred’s shoulder, getting his attention. 
> 
> “Alfred, love, it’s gloomy.” Arthur said softly, looking outside that was to the side of him. 
> 
> “A little dark weather and rain shouldn’t matter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Sunshine Riptide by Fall out boy.

**Chapter Fourteen: Dramatic**

Arthur had been in a constant state of thinking when he was snapped out of his thoughts by somebody, other than Marc, yelling through a megaphone. 

Alfred, Tino, and himself had finished their part long ago when Marc had specifically gone over and talked to Arthur about, “Gettin’ that checked out”, regarding the cough that wouldn’t stop even at the most inconvenient moments. 

Marc had been thrown into a frazzled scurry after that, nobody was doing what they were supposed to after that and it was on one in the afternoon. 

Somehow Gilbert managed to talk Mathias, and apparently Alfred, who had just been standing by Arthur second ago, to tie Feliks up in the rafters in his full costume so that he could fly, and for some reason that Polish guy was all too happy to go along with it, saying it was; “Going to be, like, totally awesome.” Arthur rolled his eyes as the awesome trio then began to swing the guy to and fro. 

Down below was just as hectic. Feliciano was begging Ludwig to fly and Elizabeta was smacking Ivan with her frying pan, to which all the Russian did was stand in place with a totally not creepy smile, saying ‘ow’ over and over while she hit him mercilessly. Roderich stood just on the outskirts of the situation with his forehand in his hand rubbing at his temples.

Arthur could see that Lukas had just entered the room and slowly backed out once he saw what was going on. Arthur could also see that Marc had just about had enough and screamed into the microphone telling everyone to shut up and get back into positions. 

Arthur was told to sit out even though he wasn’t in the scene to begin with. There was a light tap on his shoulder and he thought that it could have been Lukas or Toris coming to say ‘Hello’ after their aquanicing the other day. But as he turned around he didn’t recognise the face. 

“I’m here on behalf of Kiku Honda.” The man said, with a smile leaning down to speak to Arthur over the roar of talking and the orchestra playing the back beats for different scenes. 

“I’m sure Alfred will be done in a few minutes if you’d like to wait.” Arthur suggested. 

“Actually, this is for you.” 

“For me?” Arthur repeated questioningly. 

“Yes, Mr. Honda said he would explain when you get there.” He explained seriously, standing to his full height from his bend position to speak to Arthur. 

“Might I ask where exactly?” Arthur crossed his arms standing to his own full height, plus the heels he was wearing for a certain scene, however, the man in front of it didn’t seem remotely phased by it. 

“Our office, to converse the details of your claim.” 

“Claim?” Arthur glanced over to the set to see Alfred saying a few of his lines in a serious tone before getting a cut from Marc, who was now explaining what he should do instead. 

“It is a filed report from Alfred Jones, and Kiku Honda on your behalf.” His brown hair bounced as he shook his head up and down in confirmation. 

“Right, I will change from my screen clothing and meet you right away.” Arthur compromised, and disbanded himself from the conversation to whisper something to Marc before pacing over to the door and tugging it open with one last look to the stage. Alfred looked at him with the tilt of his head and a confused and concerned expression labeled on his face. Marc’s last words rang through Arthur's ears, as Alfred finally got the ‘emotion’ that Marc was looking for for the scene. 

Arthur quickly changed into street clothes and pushed open the door to the studio to be greeted by the man in a suit that had paged him a little earlier. He opened the door to the long limousine and slid in after Arthur. It then took around ten or fifteen minutes to reach the downtown area and get out of the car, only to be stunned by a load of flashing cameras and voices asking and talking through each ear. Arthur held a hand over his face to keep the cameras from getting any good pictures and to keep the flashing silver light out of his face as he was moved into the building that lied directly ahead of him. 

The issue without having a manager is the issue of no one to take care of responsibilities that were required of such a profession, meaning that Arthur was living off of Alfred’s schedule and his own bank account was in his own hands, which in retrospect was much more preferable than the bastard that he had put in charge of it before. A manager was also supposed to take care of the security detail of his client and ensure that the needs of the person were appropriately taken care of. Arthur figured that his ex-manager had laid off the entirety of his personal and security and had also taken a sum of money as his own. But if it meant that the intolerable man was gone for good then that was the price to pay. 

Arthur was addressed by Kiku, who stood up as soon as the door to the building closed. Arthur looked up from his shoes and at the shorter man, who stood with a wary smile on his face. It was one of his first times meeting the man except for the time that he had met him when he and Alfred did that interview. 

“I assure you, Arthur-san, that it is nothing to be worried about.” Kiku said, giving Arthur a terrible gut feeling as he swallowed and nodded. 

“Would you mind telling me what this may be about first?” Arthur asked. 

“Certainly.” Arthur and Kiku’s head turned toward a voice that came from a side hallway. He casually walked up to Arthur and put his hand out, only to have Arthur refuse to shake it. 

“I would rather you tell me what this is about first, Sir.” Said Arthur sternly, making direct eye contact with the man’s brown eyes. The man, who had not yet introduced himself, and expected Arthur to spill why he wanted to file the document, was a large build possibly a mix between Alfred and Ludwig, but stood taller than both. 

“If you would follow me right this way, Mr. Kirkland, then I would gladly tell you.” Arthur nodded and followed the blonde guy down the hall he had come from turning his head to look behind his shoulder at Kiku, who was giving a reassuring smile but hadn’t moved from the place in which he stood. 

Arthur was led to a room and sat down in a seat on the side of the table that was chairs away from the head of the table. The other in the room gave him a smile that reflected that of a lawyer's. Arthur felt his tongue knot up and his throat close as the man sat down next to him and shuffled a few papers before looking down at the papers he had. 

“I was given these….” He started putting on his reading glasses as he talked again, “They are from Kiku Honda with your signature on them. This is a request form to switch management.” 

Arthur nodded and sat back in the chair, he crossed one leg over the other and repeated the process with his arms. 

“Mr. Honda has already accepted this form to take you under his management.” He spoke agonisingly slowly as if he was trying to lead up to a cliffhanger or make it the plot of a mysterious movie.    
  


“Then what is the problem,  _ Sir _ ?” Arthur snapped, all the thinking of management, especially thoughts of his own old manager, were starting to twist his stomach and clog his head. Arthur scowled had reappeared and his thick eyebrows furrowed. 

“Your current manager refuses to sign the papers, and without the details as to why you wish to change management there is nothing I can do.” The man shook his hand pinching off his glasses from the side and giving Arthur a stern look that didn’t scream ‘sorry’ at all. 

Arthur didn’t say anything for the next few minutes, his brows furrowed and his hands, that were once crossed over one another, were tugging at his sleeves to gain some sort of grasp of himself. “Meaning that I cannot switch management unless  _ he _ signs this paper or I give  _ you  _ details as to why I need to switch my management.” 

The man nodded, putting his glasses on the papers he was once holding. 

“Bloody–” Arthur was about to swear when Alfred slammed opened the door, panting. He received a look of confusion from the man at the head of the table and a quick look of surprise from Arthur, who had to turn to see who was at the door. 

“What do you need, Alfred?” Arthur tried his best to keep a harsh tone out of his voice to somebody who did nothing wrong, but what he had just been told made his blood boil. 

“I came to help.” Alfred brought his hands from his knees after he caught his breath and walked toward Arthur. 

“I don’t need your bloody help!” Arthur scolded loudly, “Besides, you’ve helped more than enough.” Arthur finished softly looking toward the paper just a foot in front of him. 

“I don’t care if you don’t need it I am here anyway.” Alfred gained the attention of the Englishman. 

“You have less than an hour to get this form resubmitted before it is terminated.” The man stole Arthur’s attention as he sat pretending to look through more papers, sitting prettily at the end of the table. 

“Less than an hour?!” Arthur exclaimed, the announcement rendered Alfred speechless, adding to his look of shock and horror.

“Each document is given 120 hours to be processed, with yours there was an exception due to the fact that Mr. Honda has already approved it from his side, but it ran into this problem before we could let it go through fully.” Arthur decided that he was appalled at the man in front of him and stood up and put both his hands on the desk once the blonde guy finished his useless announcement. 

“You want a reason? I’ll give you a bloody good reason!” Arthur looked the man in the eye and snatched the paper that had caused him trouble in the first place and stole a pen that the guy was holding to scribble down exactly what he thought.

“Arthur!” Arthur heard Alfred curse from behind him obviously terrified at what would happen if Arthur’s secret was exposed just by writing it down. Arthur dotted the end of the sentence giving Alfred a look that he couldn’t quite identify before he slid the paper back to the commissioner. 

“That’s your damn reason.” Arthur said fiercely, crossing his arms and waiting for acknowledgement of what he wrote of the piece of printed computer paper. He was feeling a tad bit regretful at that moment, but decided to stick up for himself. Alfred's face of shock behind him wasn’t helping his new found fear.

“Do you have proof of this?” The man stated, preparing to discard the approval of a new manager. 

“I–yes, I do.” Arthur sighed realising the drastic measure he just took on a whim and hoped to God that it would never get out to the media all because he lost his head. 

“And what is this proof?” He questioned skeptically, looking up at Arthur, who was looking between his feet and Alfred. 

Arthur was about to speak when Alfred put a large hand on his shoulder that silenced him. 

“I was there.” He confessed. 

“So you are a witness to this?” The commissioner prepared his pen and offered a seat to Alfred, who just stood next to Arthur and put his beloved jacket on the seat next to him 

“I will only tell you if you can promise that none of it will go beyond this room, ‘kay dude?” Alfred swallowed and gave Arthur the same look that he did the first time he found out about Arthur’s situation, the same look that told Arthur in that moment that things were going to be okay again. 

“While I do promise that it will never be seen by the media it will still have to be approved, which will require the information to leave the room.” He brought his brown eyes to look at Alfred’s contrasting blue ones then to Arthur’s as if to ask of silent approval. 

Alfred nodded and cleared his throat. “Arthur had already told me what was happening, he had the marks and bruises to prove it too. So I allowed him to stay at my house, because honestly there is, like, way more than enough room for two people to live.” Alfred started, getting off topic until Arthur lightly tapped his thigh under the table. “Anyway, so we decided that if we just got some of his stuff from his house in one go that he wouldn’t have to go back all the time and risk  _ that _ happening again. This is where I saw it happen and it was fucked up man.” Alfred finished and listened for the man to stop writing. 

The commissioner nodded and put a period at the end of the sentence before turning his head up to look at Alfred.

“You said he had the marks and bruises to prove it?” Alfred nodded. Arthur cast his eyes down nervously, right now he would give anything to be yelled at by Marc for doing a line wrong and having to restart it than be sitting in a room telling a complete stranger the darkest part of his life. 

“Would you mind showing me these ‘marks and bruises’ supposing that they are still there after however many weeks?” 

“Just last week.” Alfred stated. 

“Would this be linked to the anonymous police call the other day?” The commissioner asked. 

“Uh, yeah.” Alfred cleared his voice nervously as the blonde man wrote something down. 

“Would you mind showing me now?” He asked, Arthur sighed and uncrossed his arms to start unbuttoning his dress shirt that he had so half-assedly thrown on in his rush to catch up to the problem at hand. 

The room went silent again as Arthur slid the shirt from under his shoulders. At first, the man was confused, until Arthur motioned for the skin coloured bandage covered in Anri’s makeup skill to be gently pulled off one by one until it showed the masterpiece of red and slashed skin and black, blue, yellow, and red bruises that outlined Arthur’s back and shoulders. Sometime soon, Alfred hoped, as well as Arthur, that they would clear up and leave Arthur’s back looking like the rest of the flawless skin he had, now though, it was just healing in a harshly slow manner. 

The man had most likely gone into shock, he stared wide eyed at the man now standing in front of him turning so that he showed both sides of his torso. Alfred sat feeling a mixture of sadness and guilt for something he didn’t even do. Somehow the burly man took his eyes away and pressed his pen down to write, before shaking his head. 

“Would you mind if this was photographed instead?” He asked before lightly letting it slip quietly that, “This is impossible to describe.” 

“Whatever you need to do.” Arthur muttered. 

“Are you sure, Artie?” Alfred glanced from the side of him, Arthur nodded and crossed his arms over his bare chest as the commissioner stood up, mumbling something about needing to get a camera. Arthur waited until the door was fully shut and the man was out of the room to lean into Alfred as he sat back down from his little show case. 

Alfred carefully wrapped a strong arm around Arthur’s messed up shoulders, and reached to grab his jacket to throw over Arthur for the time being.

“That’s one hell of a sunburn.” Alfred deadpanned. 

“At least that’s over now.” Arthur sighed, letting himself belittle as he snuggled into Alfred’s touch. 

A few minutes later the man came back holding a photographer's camera and telling Arthur how to hold his arms so that he could get a clear of the troubled spots, before letting them go and full-heartedly promising to get the paper to go through no matter the cost. 

Being reminded of the things he’d much rather forget brought him into a sort of moody state, but as long as nobody found out besides the people who did the filing and completing then it was worth the risk he had to pay. Alfred had, without asking from Arthur, called Marc and made a shockingly good excuse as to why they couldn’t come back into the studio that day. Arthur could hear Marc’s muffled voice addressing what Alfred has just said.

Arthur fell back against the seat of the car, wincing as he did so. The bandages were off which did not provide him with a soft covering against the seat. Arthur hissed and arched his back to keep off of his. Alfred then hung up the phone and said something about not having to go back into work because of his awesome excuse. Arthur nodded and pushed off the seat belt, which is definitely something he normally wouldn’t do, then slid so that his head rested on Alfred’s leg. 

“Whatcha doin’, Artie?” Alfred asked, casually taking one hand off the driving wheel and putting it in Arthur’s hair like Arthur always did to him. 

“Mmm, tired.” Arthur mumbled. 

“Well, neither one of us got any sleep last night.” Alfred figured. Arthur knew that if he looked up he would see that same smirk on Alfred face that was always there when he said things like that 

“You are an indecent git, did you know that?” Arthur rolled his eyes and looked up at the roof of the car that Alfred had chosen for that day. 

“Ya tell me everyday, Artie, and to think I would’ve googled the meaning by now.” Alfred laughed, threading a hand through Arthur’s golden blonde hair. 

“You haven’t?” Arthur asked. Alfred could tell there was a hint of a smile in his own voice, most likely because of how ridiculous Alfred was always being. 

“No.” Alfred confessed, pulling into his driveway and earning a look from Arthur, who had sat up at his new information. 

Arthur just gave a cute characteristically charming laugh and tugged Alfred’s jacket, that Arthur had seen him wear on multiple occasions, tighter around himself and opened the car door and hopped out. Alfred did the same thing and they met in the living room of the house. 

Arthur was about to head into his and Alfred’s room when he saw Alfred staring outside. 

“What is it?” Arthur walked over to where Alfred was standing near the large glass pane of the window. 

Alfred turned to Arthur, who looked a bit frightened or concerned at the fact that Alfred was just mindlessly staring outside.

“Let’s go swimming, since last time was such a bust.” The blonde’s smile turned as Arthur moved his hand to set on Alfred’s shoulder, getting his attention. 

“Alfred, love, it’s gloomy.” Arthur said softly, looking outside that was to the side of him. 

“A little dark weather and rain shouldn’t matter.” Alfred said with a smile putting a hand on Arthur’s hip to begin to drag him to the room to put on swim clothes. Arthur mindlessly followed, finding no point in arguing when Alfred seemed so keen on it. Besides, it wasn’t storming so it probably wouldn’t hurt, the same couldn’t be said physically for him though. 

It took a minute to get out of the house and walk out to the pool where Arthur stayed on shore as Alfred cannon-balled into the deep end of the pool, his glasses floated down to the bottom until Alfred swam down to get them and sat them on his face again. He treaded over to where Arthur sat the first time they went out to Alfred’s pool. 

Arthur gave a smile that Alfred reflected when he walked up to Arthur, he figured it was the first real grin he had given all day. Alfred seemed delighted at it. 

“Will you ever tell me why you need these?” Arthur inquired quietly, shifting closer to the end of the pool and putting his hands to the sides of Alfred’s face. He moved his nimble fingers to the sides of the lenses to lift them off the other’s structured face and set them to the side. 

Alfred looked down at his hands in the water splashing them around a bit, making Arthur move his own hands away from Alfred as he realised that the American was in a state of nostalgia. 

“You don’t–” Arthur started until Alfred looked up and cut him off. 

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s nothing serious anyway.” Alfred lifted himself out of the pool to sit next to Arthur, who jokingly moved away from the other blonde as he shifted water from out of the pool and onto the concrete. Alfred wrapped his wet muscular arm around Arthur’s shoulders and pulled him close, at the same time careful of the unwrapped wounds on his back. “Just a stupid accident.” 

“An accident?” Arthur questioned trying to shuffle away from Alfred, whom of which wouldn’t let that happen as he brought them both down on the concrete to look up at the sky that was slowly turning into a starry night sky with a few angry clouds that still lingered. 

“Remember how I told you that I wanted to go into the air force?” Arthur nodded recalling their flight to New York, “I was a really dumb kid back then, even dumber than I am now, and a bunch of us snuck out to a bar, even though we were all underage and fresh out of high school and it was painfully obvious. Fast forward a few hours and we managed to convince some of the barkeeps to give us a little something, it wasn’t a lot but enough to keep us buzzed. Not too long after we left, figuring we couldn’t get anything else, and decided to head back to the base, on the way there I noticed a short guy, a little shorter than Feli, he was scrawny too, something about him reminded me of Matt when we were young, before he started training for hockey and getting all hench, maybe that's why I stopped, I don’t really know. He was being picked on by some more experienced pilots and me, being the hero and all, just had to go and say something. Needless to say there was a pretty nasty brawl that ended with a blow to the back of my head. A good portion of my perfect eyesight was lost which meant that I couldn’t fly for the air force anymore, but I fell back into acting and here I am now so.” Alfred chuckled for a second as he was remembering it, his eyes were glossed over as he told the memory as if it were happening in front of him.

“Why are you laughing? You could have gotten seriously injured, Alfred.” Arthur chimed in his eyes wide with concern as he turned on Alfred’s arm to look at the dreaming American. 

“It’s funny ‘cause I wouldn’t be living the life I am now without the incident, and I met some good friends through it. Sure, it may have put me in the hospital for a few weeks, and I was so lost for some time because I didn’t know what to do anymore, and my vision will never be the same as it was four years ago, but–” Alfred visibly shrugged. “Matthew even got some himself so I wouldn’t be left out.” 

“Matthew is sensitive like that.” Arthur recalled the Canadians personality, looking up at the sky again and listening to the sound of Alfred talking or how their feet make trickling sounds on the surface of the water. “That must’ve been a lot to go through at such a confusing age. I’m sorry it had to happen that way, Alfred.” 

“I guess, but it was so long ago.” Alfred finished and sat back up pulling Arthur with him, he changed the heavy topic swiftly, “But don’t mind that, you haven’t even gotten into the water yet!”

Arthur shook his head, reluctant to slip into the water like Alfred was doing and holding Arthur’s hand.

“I told you before I don’t love the water.” Arthur excused. 

“I can just hold ya again then.” Alfred offered, holding his arms out instead. “The painkillers I gave ya should be kicking in by now, right?” 

“I suppose.” Arthur slid into the water, feeling the moderate temperature of the large pool as he jumped into Alfred’s arms and wrapped his arms around the taller torso. There was a brief moment of silence as Alfred just stood holding Arthur, who was weightless in water. “I think you look quite charming with or without them.” Arthur whispered into Alfred’s ear, earning him a kiss on the cheek that was closest to Alfred’s lips. 

“Thanks, Artie!” Alfred said in between kisses that he pressed to the side of Arthur’s face trailing until he reached Arthur’s own pink lips that he stopped to give a long, passion filled, kiss to. The smaller blonde reciprocated it, wrapping his arms around Alfred’s neck and deepening the kiss. Alfred started gripping at the clothing that Arthur had on. 

“Not here.” Arthur mumbled against Alfred’s mouth. To which Alfred grumbled in protest and pulled away at a peculiar sound. 

“What was that?” Alfred turned his head toward the end opposite of the house and let Arthur peck at his neck. 

“Maybe it’s a ghost.” Arthur taunted, gaining an uncharacteristic shriek from Alfred, whose eyes widened. 

“Time to go now.” Alfred decided and carried Arthur out of the pool, not phased at the weight difference when switching to land instead of water. 

Alfred set down Arthur for a second to grab his glasses, then held his hand until they were locked back in the warm house. 

**____**

“I realised that I haven’t shown you something yet.” 

“Oh, what would that be?” Arthur questioned as they laid in bed fully clothed in fluffy pajamas that they changed into after they came in from the pool. Though there may or may not have had a make out session before considering to put warmer clothes on. 

“Follow me.” Alfred grinned, taking Arthur’s hand and guiding him through a few hallways, passing a maid or butler which was rare in Alfred’s house unless Kiku called for them or arranged a schedule with them and Alfred, to a door with a staircase leading downwards. 

“Is this where you kill me?” Arthur asked warily, being led into the dark basement. 

“Course not, Artie!” Alfred smiled in the dark, clapping twice before the room lit up. Arthur’s eyes lit up as he looked around him. 

The room was large and full of folding seats; it was a home theater, right in Alfred's basement. There was a screen to the very front of the organised room, there was a projector on the ceiling and an old movie tape projector standing on three legs in front of the screen. Arthur lightly ran a pale hand over the film that was connected to the large black camera. The room was unlike the rest of the house, it was decorated traditionally like a theater you might have found in the early nineteen hundreds, some of the wood was carved and there was a healthy amount of gold, whether it was real or painted, Arthur didn’t know. 

Alfred turned to one of the butlers that followed them into the basement, “Can you get us a bowl of popcorn and stuff? Thanks, dude.” Alfred grinned excitedly. The man in the suit smiled, nodded, and made his way up the stairs again. 

“This is amazing, Alfred.” Arthur commented, turning back to his boyfriend, whom he had neglected for a second to look around the room. 

“I know, right! I know it’s not as comfortable as the couch upstairs, but I thought you’d like to see it.” Alfred toured, walking over to the back of the theater and clicking a few buttons so that the screen in front of the room lit up and the lights that lit up the room dimmed. “Whatcha wanna watch?” 

Arthur turned back from what he was looking at as he was listening to Alfred speak, “This.” 

Arthur pointed to a roll of film that he recognised as one of Alfred’s own movies, he had heard of it but had never seen it. 

Alfred reluctantly agreed and sat down as the popcorn was delivered along with a few drinks. Arthur’s eyes were already glued to the screen as he saw a young Alfred skip onto it, he couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen.

Arthur figured that Alfred wasn’t kidding when he said he ‘fell back into acting’ after his incident. He really had been on the silver screens for a long time now. 

“You were quite cute.” Arthur mused, reaching into the bowl that was sat on Alfred’s lap. 

“What do you mean ‘were’?” Alfred pouted, turning his head toward Arthur, who had his eyes back on the screen. 

“Shh.” Arthur put his index finger to Alfred’s lips and waited for the next line. 

“I regret this.” Alfred mumbled and Arthur let out a needed laugh at something Alfred had said to another character in the film. 

After the full hour and fifty minutes of Arthur giggling at stupid things that Alfred said, because it was in the script is what Alfred had argued, the movie was over and all the tiredness that Arthur had pushed away was starting to make it’s way back. He rested his head on Alfred's shoulder and watched as the movie ended and the credits started to roll. Alfred sat in shock reveling in that fact that Arthur had actually enjoyed the film. 

**_____**

“Listen up people!” Marc called, gaining the attention of the people surrounding the set. He stood next to the assistant director that had been in the conference room on the day that everyone decided that they would do one stage show. 

Arthur and Alfred looked toward where Marc and the second director, whose name was unknown at the moment. 

“We have decided on a date for the one and only show, but in order to be on schedule for trailers and due dates we have to film the second major dance and an equally important sex scene.” Marc announced at the end as a few more whistles and stares landed on Alfred and Arthur, who for some reason, that people might have wondered about eventually, didn’t even have a tint of red on his face like he knew that it was nothing to be avoided or that he was okay with it already. Alfred just stood like everything was normal, maybe wearing a small smirk.

“We start the second dance tomorrow.” Marc concluded. “Any questions?” There was a wave of nods of understanding and no’s to the questions. 

“For today, practice the dance and your lines.” and with this Marc left the room with the assistance and Parcy tailing him.

The two blondes settled in the seats of the auditorium and watched everyone else who were doing many different things to contribute to the film.

“Are you not going to go up there and play your part?” Arthur asked, turning his head from the stage to the handsome American sitting next to him. Fortunately, nobody that day needed to get into costume to practice so it was comfortable and less hectic than the day before, at least this time Feliks was on the ground too. 

“Nah, I don’t need to, it’s simple enough.” Alfred excused. 

“Mmm.” Arthur hummed in acknowledgement. 

They sat for a few more minutes before everyone’s favourite German and Italian pair came strolling up to the British and American men, who were in a conversation/argument about something random that luckily nobody caught on too. 

“Hey guys!” Alfred greeted, earning an eye roll from Arthur, who stood up to greet Feliciano and Ludwig just as Alfred had done. 

“Hello.” Arthur said simply. 

“Feliciano is having trouble with this one as well.” Ludwig started, “I know that you two do not participate in this one but–” 

Feliciano decided to stop Ludwig and finish the German’s statement, “But we saw those paparazzi pictures and you were doing this one so maybe you could teach us!” Feliciano smiled. 

Alfred turned to Arthur, who had a look of disdain and concern, Alfred just shrugged, “Sure we can! But what are Antonio and Lovino doing?” 

“Lovi is helping the others and Francis took Toni for a few hours to set everything up for tonight.” Feliciano rambled. 

“Tonight?” Arthur raised an eyebrow at the Italian. 

“Francis’s cast party thing! You guys are coming, right? Please say you are!” The dramatic little man begged. 

‘“Course, Feli!” Alfred answered for Arthur, who was still contemplating the fact that it was already Friday. “We can take our lunch break to get a change of clothes, come back here, and practice the part and then leave to do whatever Francis is doing.” 

“Okay! Come on, Luddy!” Feliciano smiled and pulled Ludwig along as the tall blonde German scolded him, to which the Italian waved a small white flag.

Arthur looked toward Alfred folding his arms with a look of confusion and concern. “I recommend that you start putting your security team outside your house.” 

Alfred nodded, “But that was a while ago, so it’s probably fine.” 

“It still wouldn’t hurt.” Arthur reasoned and went back to watching the rest of the dancers, who were trying to do the same thing in front of another rolling side camera. 

Before anyone could comprehend it, there was a quick lunch break. The pair quickly hopped in Alfred’s favourite black sports car and went back to his house to grab extra clothing for after their practice with Ludwig and Feliciano. Something suitable to party out the end of the week in at Yao’s club with the rest of their co-workers and friends. 

Alfred had made a quick call to Kiku, who quickly answered and gave a detailed description of next week and the day of the show that everyone was scheduled to fly into New York for. Kiku also updated them on security detail and Arthur’s manager application that was going through the next few days worth of processing. 

There were only a few who actually left at lunch, but the rest stayed to practice the second to last dance. Feliciano was already waving Arthur and Alfred over, jumping up and down like a happy dog who was happy to see it’s human. 

The first time Alfred and Arthur had tried the dance they had thought they didn’t do it correctly in the slightest, but after a few minutes scrolling through the internet and finding the photographs from a few weeks ago, they found that the few photos that were sneakily taken of them from outside of Alfred’s house were surprisingly correct in choreography, and luckily they were taken with a high definition camera. 

Feliciano and Ludwig showed the blonde duo what they were having trouble with again and located themselves to the side of the stage where nobody else could get in their way while they started helping the German and Italian men. Alfred was able to obtain some footage of what the dance was supposed to look like and started grabbing at Arthur’s sides to hold him for a second like they had done before when Arthur proposed that they try it first. 

Feliciano watched with a content look on his face as Alfred started moving Arthur in a way that a tango was supposed to go as a lenient practise. 

“Do you dudes just want to follow us or do you want to watch?” Alfred asked, turning his gaze from Arthur to the other two just to the side of the main dance floor. 

“I wanna watch!” Feliciano cheered, Ludwig nodded in agreement. 

The difficulty of the thing that Feliciano and Ludwig had to do was that Ludwig had a different part before he ended up with Feliciano for the main dance where they were at the front of the camera just like in the first dance. But the only part that they were struggling with was the part that they had together. It wasn’t that they were incapable or incompatible working together, the height difference was perfect along with the strength that Ludwig had. The problem was that neither one of the pair was trained in that specific field of dance unlike Antonio or Feliciano’s brother. Sure Feliciano or Ludwig could do something traditional like the waltz, but it was never anything too complicated. 

Alfred, Arthur, Feliciano, and Ludwig re-watched the main part of the dance over and over until Alfred and Arthur were able to grasp the main concept of how to do it like they had done a few weeks ago. 

“You can watch us, and when you are ready you can join in if you would like.” Arthur accessed. Ludwig nodded in confirmation and Feliciano shook his head quickly and lightly jumped up and down in excitement. 

Strangely enough, Ludwig was the one that ended up pulling Feli into a rigorous patch of the tango, to which he confidently led Feliciano around and through different dips and lifts. At one point, there was an alarmingly quick drop that Arthur was sure he would have missed if it wasn’t for Alfred looking him in the eyes and singing his part of the music that was sung over the main beat of the dance. The drop that Arthur and Feliciano transitioned into an even quicker spin and a turn of the hips that made an acute clicking and whooshing sound on the hardwood of the stage. 

Alfred adjusted his grip on Arthur’s hands so that he could hold onto him tighter and less painfully went he let Arthur slowly to the ground, staring deep into Arthur’s green eyes at to make sure that he wasn’t hurting the pale small man. Arthur just rolled his eyes and urged Alfred to bring him back up and continue with the rest of it. Arthur had to try his best to both remember the part, and to not lean into Alfred and kiss him when the dance called for his arms to be tightly wrapped around Alfred’s neck and to be spun around like a cliche reunion between two movie characters. Instead, Arthur looked around to see Feliciano giggling and holding his face to the side of Ludwig’s, who had a heavy red tint on his face that he was trying to hide. 

For a few seconds it felt like everything stopped being dramatic and fast paced as the music slowly went down and both Feliciano and Arthur were set down on the floor again. The music itself took a rest before resuming into the main dance again, just as loud and bone chilling as before. Once again, Alfred adjusted his hands so that it was placed on one of Arthur’s hips while the other held his wrist that was once covered in the fabric of his shirt. For the next part he spun Arthur around so that Arthur’s back was placed against his chest, Ludwig watched and reluctantly did the same to Feliciano.

Arthur could tell during the next part that the end of dance was coming to a close and Ludwig and Feliciano were trying to keep up with whatever Arthur and Alfred tried to do, including the complicated things. There was a final spin before the music came to an abrupt stop and Alfred’s head landed just on top of Arthur’s shoulder. The Englishman stoically looked forward and tried to keep his face unsuspecting and normal as Alfred pressed a sneaky kiss onto Arthur’s neck and shoulder before Arthur shrugged him off so that nobody could see. 

During their rehearsal some had stayed to watch the display from the chairs around the room as others left to go back to their houses before going to Yao’s to drink the night away. By the time the group of four stopped on their third run of the dance is when they realised that nobody, besides them, was left on the set. 

Alfred was delighted to see that his favourite and only students were finally starting to get the hang of it. 

For the fourth turn the two opted to stay out and watch Feliciano and Ludwig as they did their thing, occasionally stopping them or yelling out different hints. After that, they had about twenty five minutes left of the practice they had made time for before they met up with everyone for one of Francis' useless, but highly entertaining, parties. In that time they figured that they could teach the two the more technical part of the second half which was most of what they had done performance wise in the first half and then some. 

By the end of the twenty five minutes, Feliciano was once again jumping with excitement at their progress and even Ludwig seemed to be a lot less stressed about the whole thing. They allowed time for the group of four to change and meet outside of the facility again. Arthur had got to talking with Ludwig about something they had in common and a movie they had unknowingly been in together as Feliciano and Alfred finished up inside of the building. Unsurprisingly, they had gotten caught up in talking about something random just like Arthur and Ludwig had. 

“Oooh~ That’s your car?” Feliciano marveled at Alfred’s favourite little black car. 

“Yup. Even Arthur likes it.” Alfred whispered the last part to which the said Brit rolled his eyes and ended his conversation on a good note with Ludwig, turning to the passenger side of the car opening the door but not necessarily getting in the car yet. 

“Do you know how to get there?” Arthur asked Ludwig, who had shaken his head no. 

“Then just follow us, dude!” Alfred offered, Ludwig nodded and Feliciano restored the smile on his face to something even bigger and brighter. Arthur had thought it was strange, for a second, that Feliciano had been so adamant about being around Ludwig, until he realised that he would be being a hypocrite if he were to say anything seeing as he was the same way with Alfred sometimes. Though he personally thought that he had no business in what their relationship with each other was. 

Arthur was once again, for the first part of the journey from the studio, holding onto the seat with white knuckles as Alfred drove at a speed that he probably should have been arrested for. Arthur was just as amazed that Ludwig was still right on Alfred’s tail as he sped down the highway. Feliciano just looked like he was having fun in the passenger seat. Eventually, Arthur learned that this wouldn’t be the last time he would be in this situation so he let go of the leather seat and slowly leaned back into the seat, he watched the world whizz by as Alfred knew exactly where he was going. 

“That was fun!” Feliciano announced as they had parked right next to each other, they walked around the block to get to the main building. Alfred’s security team, which happened to be a bit larger than before, was trailing at a safe distance behind and in front of the four. 

“Where in the world did you learn to drive?!” Arthur asked, as more of a statement than a question. Alfred gave a wide smirk, and fell back so that he walked parallel with the German of the group, dragging Arthur with him. 

“Hey Ludwig, dude, isn’t there a road in Germany with no speed limit? I think I’ve been on it before but I can’t remember exactly.” Alfred smirked curiously, knowing full well that there was, but wanting to know the name of it.

“Autobahn.” Ludwig confirmed. 

“Have you been there, Luddy?” Feliciano looked up to the blonde with large eyes, to which Ludwig nodded and let the Italian grab his hand and hold it until they made it to the building. There he grabbed the rest of the German’s muscular arm. 

“Arthur, I am taking you there.” Alfred declared. 

“I quite value my life, thank you.” Arthur retorted, scoffing and crossing his arms. 

The conversation was quickly abandoned when they made it into the club that had been decorated with multiple different coloured lights and many different kinds of drinks covering the bar and behind it. Yao and Ivan stood behind the bar talking about something that the Russian smiled at and Yao, the small Chinese man with a ponytail who owned the place, hit his arm and yelled a profanity in his native language.

Something told the two as soon as they walked in that this would be a night they wouldn’t forget. 

Unless they got too drunk, which was definitely a possibility. 


	15. "A Little Party Never Killed Nobody..." Or Maybe it did?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur then threw the pen back at the bartender, it hit his face then fell into a glass that he was carrying. The determined green eyed man then got up, grabbed the collar of Alfred’s shirt, and tugged him up, making his way over to a dark floor loaded with many different people. 
> 
> The rest of the night was a blur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from A little Party (Never killed nobody) by Fergie, Q-Tip, Goonrock.  
> At this point I have no idea why I have chosen the things that I have. Prolly bc issa party, iduuno.

**Chapter Fifteen: Party**

Unsurprisingly, Feliks was sitting in a sparkly get up and in the process of getting mildly wasted and attempting to get Toris off his chair onto the packed dance floor. Francis was in the tightest pair of red pants that Arthur had ever seen and his shirt was practically lace and fur. Antonio sat at the head of a table with Lovino on his lap, as the Italian yelled profanities. Elizabeta was having a drinking contest with Roderich, who would have had to have already been drunk to participate in it. As they looked around, Gilbert came waddling over in a state of being Awesome and drunk with a very important question. 

“Where’s the awesome little brother of yours, Al?” The white haired Prussian slurred, throwing an arm around Alfred’s shoulders, while the other went around his own brother’s shoulders. He quickly took a swig of whatever drink he had in his glass. 

“New York.” Alfred answered the Prussian, who automatically looked like he wanted to cry. 

“I’M COMING FOR YOU, BIRDIE!” Gilbert screamed and handed Ludwig his glass and walked out the front door before his security stopped him from heading to the airport. Instead, they brought him back inside and set him down by Antonio and Francis, who were at the head of probably the biggest table in the establishment, where he just rocked back and forth in the fetal position. 

Alfred watched in amusement as Arthur wondered how Gilbert could have been so infatuated with the Canadian. Arthur just figured that they must have known each other through Alfred and spent a lot of time together. Alfred then snapped Arthur out of his thoughts by grabbing his hand and bringing him over to the table filled with the rest of their co-stars. Ludwig and Feliciano followed and everyone took seats as waiters came around to take orders and refills. 

There was light chatter all around the table until a loud interruption from Feliciano stopped all the conversations taking place around the table. 

“FRATELLO!” Feliciano screeched, though it was more in surprise than worry, it still grabbed the majority of the tables, and the clubs attention. Lovino was now standing behind his brother, covering the other Italian’s mouth as Feliciano screamed and looked down and pointed to one of Lovino’s hands that he quickly moved behind his back and threw an angry look over to Antonio, who just smiled like everything was peachy. 

Feliciano eventually stopped screeching over the course of a few minutes while his counterpart still held his mouth closed with one hand. Everybody else just stared at them until Antonio decided to remove his boyfriend from Feliciano, who had the biggest smile on his face and was already tapping Ludwig’s shoulder to get his attention again. 

“Feliciano you are not allowed to tell anybody.” Lovino commanded. 

“Aw, but fratello I have too!” Feliciano whined and continued to try and get Ludwig’s attention. After Antonio came and pried Lovino’s hands off Feliciano everyone went back to their normal conversations, their attention away from the Italians, one of which didn’t want attention away. 

“No, you don’t.” Lovino snapped back. 

“But it’s just Luddy.” Feliciano reasoned, still tapping Ludwig, who was doing his best to politely ignore his little Italian friend. 

“Don’t tell the potato bastard anything!” 

“I’m right here.” Ludwig turned to the two Italians, one of which was happy about his attention and the other was not. 

“Now, Lovi, he's just your little brother.” Antonio spoke up, scooting his chair farther from Francis and Gilbert and closer to Lovino, who crossed his arms. 

“Exactly.” Lovino put on a scowl and leaned back in his chair. Feliciano screeched again. 

“THERE IT IS!” Feliciano said, pointing to Lovino’s left hand, and the rest of the table looked. Lovino slowly slid under the table. 

Antonio smiled and stood up, looking down at Lovino, who had taken residence under the table. “Lovi, mi pequeño tomate, get out from under the table.” 

“Bastard.” Was the entirety of Lovino’s reply, Antonio laughed and continued to hold the attention of the table. 

“WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!” Antonio said like that one vine that everybody probably forgot about and was automatically tackled by Feliciano, who was a screaming mess of cheers. Ludwig ended up having to unglue Feliciano from his brother and Antonio. The rest of the table offered their cheers and congratulations. 

After that hype calmed down for a second there were two seats empty that were full before. Nobody seemed to notice until, once again, Feliciano spoke up. 

“Where did Alfred and Arthur go?” 

“If I could’ve I would’ve left too.” Lovino said, only minutes after getting up from under the table. 

“Aren’t they living together?” Gilbert gossiped, not as drunk anymore since he had been on a strict water diet since the last time he was drunk, which happened to be way too early in the evening. 

“Ah, but I think that it is because Arthur’s house is still being fixed.” Francis spoke up giving the two an excuse. Even though he knew exactly what they were most likely doing he decided, for Arthur's sake, that he would help them. He and Arthur were always making excuses for one another when they needed it, now was just another one of those moments and he owed the Brit for a few other instances. 

“Oh, that was scary!” Feliciano frowned, which earned a nod in agreement from a few other people around the table. 

“But that just means that they get extra practice with one another when they have lines or dances.” Antonio considered.

“So they are cheating.” Lovino leaned back in his chair again. 

“You can’t cheat when it comes to acting, Lovi!” Antonio said, turning to his Fiancé.

“But they are really good at it!” Feliciano interrupted, “There are even pictures on the internet of it!” 

“There is?” Francis looked over his wine glass, crossing his legs. 

“Si! And they're really good.” 

“Interesting.” 

**____**

Somewhere in the establishment…

“They are probably wondering where we are by now.” Arthur mumbled breathlessly, being pushed against the wall. 

“Probably not.” Alfred decided, running a hand down Arthur’s choice of clothing, which was dark leather that perfectly outlined his body. Alfred couldn’t tell if he wanted it on or off. 

“We still can’t take too long if they decide to come looking for us.” Arthur said, pulling Alfred to elbows length and looking into his eyes that were dressed in contact lenses instead of his glasses. 

“Fine. We just won’t go all the way.” Alfred pouted. 

“We are surrounded by people we don’t even know and you even considered that?” Arthur let out an airy sigh as Alfred pecked his neck. 

“Maybe. It’s a club, so why not?” 

“Alfred!” Arthur couldn’t tell if he was scolding the cocky American or succumbing to his antics. 

Arthur, after a few seconds, stopped talking and let his hands find their way to the sides of Alfred’s face, bringing it to his own. He decided that he would rather be kissing the American instead of talking to him at that moment. When he had the perfect hold on the taller he threw both arms over his broad shoulders, allowing Alfred to grab his thighs to put them on his hips to hold the Englishman. 

**____**

By midnight the following could be seen if you were to walk into Yao Wang’s club that _was_ still opened to the open public. 

Francis had actually found a pole and started doing whatever he wanted with it. Elizabeta was hitting the bartender with her frying pan, Roderich was passed out on the table, probably because he couldn’t take it anymore. Yao disappeared. Lovino was most likely drunk or everyone else was too drunk to care that he was sitting on Antonio’s lap in a full on makeout session occasionally yelling that he had a really fucking expensive engagement ring, while Gilbert was yelling at them to “get a room” and Feliks was fixing his makeup with Toris on the dancefloor. 

Mathias brought his posse for a dance battle. Tino was winning out of Lukas, Berwald, Mathias himself, and Lukas little brother Emil. Tino managed to convince the DJ to play some badass heavy metal that was probably turning Ivan violent. A few others were scattered around the room in the masses of many other people who just wandered into the party with their own friends or to catch some actors’ making a mess of the club. 

Currently, Arthur sat at the bar with Alfred sitting next to him in the rotating chairs. Alfred's hands were itching to make their way up Arthur torso and strip off his partially leather shirt, but was able to restrain from doing so considering his alcohol levels were kept to a low unlike everyone else’s, including Arthur. 

Arthur glanced around to see Francis on a stripper pole with random people throwing money at him, it was something that made him want to either throw up or cry and pour acetone in his eyes. His brain was referencing the times that the two of them had gone out to a club and gotten royally hammered. If questioned about those nights Arthur would say that he regretted it while Francis would tell you that they had the time of their lives. Once upon a time there used to be a few stripper poles located near the dance floor that got their fair share of use by the two blondes. 

Alfred watched Arthur shudder and wondered why for a second before turning around to see Francis and the look of concern and mild disgust on Arthur's face. Alfred laughed, waiting for Arthur to finish what was probably his seventh drink even though he was still going. 

“You are going to regret this in the morning if you don’t stop, Artie.” Alfred said, trying to grab the glass of whiskey from Arthur’s hand, to which the British man kept pulling away from Alfred so he couldn’t grab it, before he finished it and slammed it on the counter. 

“Alfred!” Arthur called in his posh accent, catching Alfred attention that was already on him. Alfred couldn’t tell if he was wasted yet. 

“Yeah?” He asked wryly. 

“Have you ever worn leather pants before Alfred? Leather anything?” Artie says throwing a leg up on the chair perching. Yep, he’s drunk. 

“No?” 

“Well, there's no better time to start!” Arthur declared, scaring Alfred as he demanded a pen from the bartender who compiled and started writing on his hand, which the next morning he would learn that it said; _‘Get sexy boyfriend to wear sexy leather pants. P.S. his name is Alfie. Just in case u don’t remember.’_

Arthur then threw the pen back at the bartender, it hit his face then fell into a glass that he was carrying. The determined green eyed man then got up, grabbed the collar of Alfred’s shirt, and tugged him up, making his way over to a dark floor loaded with many different people. 

The rest of the night was a blur. 

Most of the party-goers' expensive cars and limousines had been ditched in the club's parking lot for the limousine that Francis set up to bring to somebody's house. After they managed to fit twenty people into one car, with some piled on top of each other, Arthur was just shit faced enough to let himself have a seat on Alfred’s lap, though nobody had thought anything of it probably because they too were also too plastered to function. Feli was with Ludwig and Lovino and Antonio were still giving each other small kisses when they thought nobody was looking. And Francis somehow managed to keep some of his clothing on. 

There was a bit of argument over whose house they were going to, or in other words whose house they were going to trash and then make Francis clean it up while wearing his red bottoms. But it was difficult to decide because almost everyone had had at least one drink if not more. 

“C'est ainsi que nous déciderons de ces personnes sexy.” Francis slurred.

“English Francis! Not everyone can understand you.” Arthur yelled from across the long car. 

“You can understand French?” Alfred shifted under Arthur’s weight and held him so the other wouldn’t fall in his influenced state. 

“Mmm.” Arthur nodded. 

“You guys know that if he completely fuck faced than he can only speak french, right?” Elizabeta laughed. 

“Non! Je suis parfaitement capable de parler anglais!” 

“That’s still French Franny!” Alfred called. 

“Bien merde.” Francis said, looking over to where Alfred and Arthur were and then glanced down to find his shoes that were and had always been on his feet. 

“Traduci quello che dice l'uomo bastardo!” Lovino joined. 

“Lovino sei sempre così scortese!” Feliciano yelled back in his native language

“Non colpa mia è un idiota completa.” Lovino yelled, causing a wave of other people to yell at Francis in various languages that nobody could understand. Meanwhile, Alfred was laughing like it was the funniest thing of the century. Arthur had even cracked a smile and shifted his position on Alfred’s lap so that they were both more comfortable. 

“HALTE DEN MUND!” Ludwig called, getting the attention of the entirety of the limousine and scaring Feliciano in the process.

“Arthur, would you mind just telling us what he is saying?” Ludwig asked the British man, who was currently seeing how far back he could go with Alfred holding him before he fell. 

“I suppose!” Arthur sprung back up from his experiment that just proved how far gone he was. 

“Francis, Quelle baise est-ce que tu dis?” Arthur asked slurred, watching as Francis laughed at whatever he said. 

“Vous ne vous souvenez évidemment pas de ma langue.” Francis replied. 

“Dites-moi simplement ce que vous avez dit.” Arthur sighed, conversing with the Frenchman even in a different language was exhausting, and Alfred was still laughing at it. Everyone waited as if they were waiting for the gender of their child. 

“J'ai dit, C'est ainsi que nous déciderons de ces personnes sexy.” Francis said drunkenly laughing and leaning to one side. 

“D'accord?” Arthur motioned for Francis to keep going and rolled his eyes. 

“Quiconque bu le moins est la maison à laquelle nous allons.” Francis said, “Comment ça?”

“He said who ever drank the least is whose house we go to.” Arthur translated. 

Everyone looked around for the least wasted person in the entire vehicle. Also realising that the skylight was opened and Ivan was nowhere to be found. Alfred had gone into hysterics now, until everyone looked at him and nodded. 

“Alfred’s it is!” Everyone cheered, causing Alfred to stop laughing and wonder if he closed the bedroom door. 

The driver automatically started turning down different streets until they were at least out of downtown LA and on the road to Alfred’s house, since in the entire time that they were at the club he only had two drinks, which he never thought he would regret. Throughout the minutes that it took to get to Alfred’s house in the hills, water was being heavily served only to have people drink the stash of beverages that Alfred had in his house once they got there. 

At least for Alfred sake, Arthur had sobered up a bunch and opted for passing out on Alfred's shoulder. 

Once the security team opened the front gate Alfred scrambled out first, carrying Arthur over his shoulder, opening the front door that was probably around fifteen feet tall. Once he made it into the house he turned on some lights and sat Arthur down in their bed before backing out of the room closing the door behind him. 

When he made it out to the living room again everyone was out of the car and sitting or standing in the living room. Alfred’s eyes went to Francis, who was turning off some of the lights that he turned on and messing with the high class stereo system that Alfred had installed in the house. Ivan, of all people, was digging through cupboards trying to find his liquor stash, which didn’t take long to find. 

Once again the party had started back up in full swing and Alfred was sad that the house that was just cleaned the day before was about to be trashed again. They had even made it outside into the pool, all while Alfred was contemplating life. 

Momentarily, Alfred ducked back into his and Arthur's room to check on the latter, who was groggy and asking for the time even though it was still dark outside and the sound of music and people talking could still be heard. 

“When did we get back?” Arthur had asked, when Alfred sat next to him on the bed and started running his hand through Arthur’s blonde hair. 

“A few minutes ago. You kinda passed out.” Alfred explained, smiling when Arthur tried to hit his hand away. 

“I figured.” Arthur sat up, coming face to face with Alfred. 

“There’s water and painkillers next to you. I am going to make sure that my house is still in one piece.” Alfred swallowed and pecked Arthur on the cheek. As soon as Alfred opened the door again, Arthur flopped back on his side of the bed and reached for what Alfred provided him with. 

“THAT’S MY COUCH CUSHION, FRANCIS!” Alfred screamed as he shut the door. 

“Ma mauvaise, Amérique!” Francis laughed and mostly likely tripped over something. Which made Arthur smile, and it continued to grow wider if Francis got drunkenly hurt and wouldn’t remember it in the morning. 

The next hour for Alfred was hell. 

Nobody would stop with their shenanigans. Usually, Alfred would have probably been down with the shenanigans if it wasn’t in his own house. He was also trying to keep them out of his bedroom where it was obvious that he and Arthur were sharing a room. 

Arthur had, at some point, gotten himself out of bed and walked out to the living room to see that it was completely trashed and that everyone had moved outside to the pool and the lawn. Arthur took the initiative to lock the door so nobody could get back in. Alfred sighed and accepted a pat on the shoulder from his boyfriend, who then dragged him back to their bedroom. Making sure that the curtain was closed to the outside and the door was locked. Arthur pressed a light kiss to Alfred’s face and then dropped his head to lay on Alfred’s shoulder. 

From outside the lovely words of, “Je pense que vous avez cassé mon pénis” could be heard, followed up by something like, “Kurva, Szopja fel.” from Elizabeta. 

“Feli, cover your ears.” Ludwig said before a loud, “Maintenant, vous l'avez vraiment fait.” from Francis. 

Around three it all started to settle down a little. Right after Gilbert made a diving board out of a ficus then passed out because he hit his head on the bottom of the pool, leaving Ludwig and Antonio to fish him out. 

**_____**

That morning the first call that Alfred made was to the house keepers that were paid under Francis Bonnefoy’s name. Secondly, there was a line of taxis lined up outside of Alfred’s roundabout driveway ready to take the sorry souls left in his backyard back to their own houses. Also, already paid for by Francis. 

“Until next time, sexies!” Francis called, waving as he was ushered into a taxicab and escorted away from the house. 

“No way in hell, Francis!” Arthur yelled, crossing his arms and standing in front of Alfred’s house with Alfred. 

“Wait ‘til he figured out I paid for all of this with his credit card.” Alfred laughed, waving back at Francis, who winked and rolled up the window. 

Arthur chuckled and let Alfred put an arm around his shoulders, walking into the house with him. 

In a short time frame the house was once again filled with a cleaning service, maids, and butlers. For now, Alfred and Arthur had tugged some lawn chairs out onto Alfred’s front lawn that was high above the rest of the neighbourhood and spent the afternoon under shade of some of the trees that sat in the yard. In this time, Alfred’s security team had brought back his car from Yao’s parking lot and parked it in the garage before joining the rest of the people dressed in black in guarding the house. 

“Do they always stay there like that?” Arthur asked, never noticing them moving around the perimeter before. 

“Not until recently.” Alfred admitted moving his sunglasses to look at the burley people moving about. “After Feliciano told us that there were pictures from inside the house, I called Kiku and told him. He arranged for both my security and what will be yours to join and guard the house as well.” 

“What do you mean; ‘what will be yours’?” Arthur questioned, turning his head from where it was looking over at the security guards to Alfred. 

“Well, yeah. I told you that Kiku was already looking for a second client and he already accepted the application thingy so all we are doing is waiting for it to go through until you have your own management under control again.” Alfred looked over the top of his sunglasses explaining the situation. “They said that they might be able to get it down quicker, but for now I have an army of security guards that you are secretly sharing.” Alfred put his sunglasses back on and smiled, loving the face of disbelief and surprise of Arthur. 

Arthur smiled unable to think of anything to say and leaned back in his chair. 

“Thank you, Alfred.” Was all he could say after a few minutes. Seconds later, he felt his chair dip a little and looked up to see that Alfred was making himself comfortable on Arthur’s chair instead of his own. 

“Now what are you doing?” Arthur moved over so that his American could have more room. 

“I am cuddling you.” Alfred smiled, tucking one arm under Arthur’s head and the other under his. 

“In ninety degree heat?” 

“‘Course!” 

Once the house was mostly clean and the two gathered back inside. Arthur spent the majority of his newfound time in the bathroom scrubbing his arm that had by far the strangest thing he had ever written on it. Though he did honor his drunk self by spending the next five minutes getting Alfred into a pair of leather pants, because his drunkenly written note said that he should. 


	16. “Red, White, Blues in the sky summers in the air and baby, heavens in your eyes.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur pulled away, fixed the rest of the costume, adjusting anything that needed to be fixed before turning to wait for Alfred, who was standing in the same place that Arthur left him with a lovestruck expression on his face. Arthur laughed a little and hit Alfred lightly on the arm, making him snap out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from National Anthem by Lana Del Rey  
> I'm completely aware that there is a lot of Lana Del Rey, but lets be honest she works with everything. 
> 
> For the longest time, I hated this chapter with a passion, but ever since I edited it, it has worked much better, so if you came here for some hardcore smut, ur not gunna get it, sorry. I've since figured out what I liked and what I didn't like about this fic and some of the sex scenes in it and so I've just edited the shit out of them.

**Chapter Sixteen: Tango**

Monday for everyone coming back was most likely hell. Marc was happy that everyone was quiet, even though, for some people, it kind of felt like Friday had exposed and their worst party habits. 

Alfred reluctantly walked into the building behind Arthur, who was basically strutting down the hallway in his fancy form fitting leather pants while Alfred was still trying to bend his knees in the tight pants. Arthur had argued while driving that day, instead of Alfred, that as soon as he got used to them it would be very easy to move around again. Alfred doubted it, then told Arthur to hit the gas pedal or they would never make it to the studio in time. 

And then there was Francis, handing out pictures of everyone on Friday night. Arthur had only thought that it was possible for him to give Francis a hundred death threats in ten minutes, but apparently he was wrong by a long shot. Alfred was, once again, laughing his ass off until Francis stopped him by giving him a bundle of photographs before also giving a bundle to Arthur as well. 

“How did you even get these?” Alfred's eyes were wide. 

  
“I swear to God, I will decapitate you one day, Francis Bonnefoy.” Arthur threatened and went to swing a punch at the side of Francis’ face which he was unfortunately pulled away from by Alfred, who looked like he wanted to do the same thing. 

“I could hit him harder.” Alfred reasoned, holding Arthur at an arm's distance. Arthur lifted an eyebrow, shrugged, and motioned his hand toward Francis, who still stood in front of the two with a ridiculous smile on his face, as if waiting to be punched in the balls. 

“All yours.” Arthur agreed, “I hope he has a good makeup artist.” Alfred nodded in agreement and casually rolled up a sleeve of the arm of which he would punch Francis in the face with. The rest of the room howled with amusement. 

“Le ow, times deux. I probably deserved that.” Francis confessed, rubbing the side of his face. 

“Francis, get off your duff and get to work.” Marc scolded, walking past the three blondes and stopping to look at Francis' face. “Maybe it’s a good thing you're not in this scene.” 

At that moment, Gilbert made himself noticed, “Roasted.” 

“Back to work Prussian!” Marc yelled from across the room, “You and Arthur have your own part in a few minutes. After the tango is finished.” 

“Du weisst, was das bedeutet!” Gilbert called, dashing to the nearest door. 

“Verpiss dich.” Arthur replied, earning a look from Alfred. “I understand curse words in every language.” Arthur stated. 

“That sounds about right.” Alfred accepted. 

Seconds later, everyone was heading to their dressing rooms. Alfred and Arthur did the same getting some stares from people who watched them go into the same one. At some point, there was a time where people started noticing it but thought it was only because Arthur’s designer sucked at her job. However, after she was fired and Marc had already hired another designer they still kept going into the same dressing room and that is when most of the suspecting started. 

As they were about to be in two different scenes they had outfits that were very different from one another. Arthur consisted of the cursed corset that Alfred had put on so effortlessly, Alfred’s consisted of another turn of the century suit and coat. 

“Wait, Artie!” Alfred smiled, getting the attention of Arthur, who was standing in front of the vanity mirror and fixing one of the latches to the long tunic-like outfit so it could connect to the rest of the flared upper half of the outfit. 

“Mmm?” Arthur turned around still holding the part that needed to be fixed. 

“You don’t have that cough anymore.” Alfred grinned, Arthur waited for a second before believing the American. 

“I suppose you're right.” Arthur agreed, patting down the article of clothing on his torso. With many of the costumes Alfred was able to get away with tying then looser than he probably should have, with the exception of a few, but the result seemed to be promising. 

“That's a good thing!” Alfred laughed, scooping Arthur up so that the Brit was like a teddy bear, though he just kept pushing at Alfred’s chest to keep him smothering him. Alfred held him close kissing the side of his face. “This means everything is getting better and that you're not dying.” 

“Well, I would sure hope not.” Arthur’s eyes widened as he stared behind Alfred at the door that was now wide opened with Marc’s assistant looking right at him. 

“What is it?” Alfred asked, still holding Arthur in place as the Brit went still as he went in a circle to see what was happening behind him. “Oh hey. We’re just practicing.” Alfred came up with, shifting Arthur so that he was bended at the half like a lawn chair and throwing the Englishman over his shoulder so that he was staring at Alfred’s coated torso. 

The girl at the door gave a slow nod and swallowed, she let go of the doorway she was standing in with her eyes cast downward. “Uh, director Marc said filming is starting early.” 

Arthur pulled away, fixed the rest of the costume, adjusting anything that needed to be fixed before turning to wait for Alfred, who was standing in the same place that Arthur left him with a lovestruck expression on his face. Arthur laughed a little and hit Alfred lightly on the arm, making him snap out of it. 

Within a reasonable amount of minutes they made their way to the main stage where it was lit up with the orchestra playing the main tune to the tango with Antonio standing in the middle of the largest set singing the back beat as everyone danced all around him. Alfred’s eyes scanned the room for Ludwig and Feliciano, who were in the front and center of everyone in the room and completely in view of the camera. Both of which looked lost and were going with whatever the rest of the people around them were doing.

Alfred smiled and grabbed the attention of the couple on the stage when they turned once again. Alfred then held Arthur in the right places and on the floor next to the stage started going through the motions of dance so that the two could follow along like they did in practise. Immediately, the two started going through the motions more confidently before Alfred figured that they just weren’t needed anymore, he ended at part one with Arthur before stopping and letting Ludwig and Feliciano do the next parts by themselves. 

As soon as the quick practise was over, Alfred was put into his place on the stage and started the main part of the song while everyone danced. Arthur still watched from the sidelines with Marc as a secondary director. Halfway through the performance Arthur was taken to a set adjacent to the one everyone else was on, Gilbert and a few cameras surrounded the large palace-like setting. 

The Prussian was currently poking Francis in his nose, which was in a makeshift cast with matching dark purple bruising on his jaw lines that his makeup artist was trying to cover up, even though Francis wasn’t even in any of the next scenes. 

The assistant director had walked into the room a minute after Arthur turned his attention to something else in the room. 

“Line up you two.” He said sternly, at first Arthur had thought it was Feliks, but his hair wasn’t as long and he didn’t speak like a valley girl. 

The rest of the scene went fairly smoothly considering both of them knew exactly what to do for the scene. The director, whose name was Vash, called cut twice because of something that Gilbert had been doing while Arthur was looking down at the rest of the outfit making sure that it was still intact. The part, however, was a lot more uncomfortable than it would’ve been with Alfred, but Arthur just dealt with it and continued until it was finished and Ivan came in to stop the scene. 

Alfred and Arthur then met on an entirely different set to do the next part before the dance. 

**_____**

Arthur brought his hands to the sides of Alfred’s face to be greeted with Alfred’s warm hands on his sides, Alfred started a quick kiss that Arthur reciprocated. After a few seconds, he deepened it so that Arthur’s arms were around Alfred’s neck and Alfred’s hands were sliding down to his waist along the stiffness of the corset that was tight around his sides. 

Marc quickly called for a cut before anything went too far. “Perfect, do that when we are actually rolling.”   


“We weren’t filming?” Arthur pulled away fully from Alfred and crossed his arms. Alfred was trying his best not to pick up the smaller, feisty man and take residence in their dressing room for an hour or so. 

“Well, there was a camera on, but it wasn’t the actual take. I guess we could use it as such.” 

“Do that then.” Alfred said, knowing that if he had to do it again he might not be able to contain himself. Arthur nodded in agreement. 

“Okay, and save all of this–” Marc said, motioning to the two of them, “–for tomorrow and the sex scene that I know you both are itching for.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes and made his way off the set knowing that it was the end of that scene for the day, though he still had a few more with Francis. 

At last, the end of the hour of different rehearsals and readings were coming to a close and finally everyone could leave. In fact, everyone just wanted to leave, at some point during the day the silver haired Prussian had captured Roderich’s pictures from Friday and starting reforming the #NotmyRoderich meme, much to the Austrians despair. Sadly though, Marc stopped Arthur and Alfred before they were able to follow everyone else out of the door. 

“How late do you two want to get home tonight?” Marc asked, making sure that the door to the set was closed and everyone else was already out of the place. 

“Now that would be swell.” Arthur replied stiffly, hoping that the Director wouldn’t make them refilm any of their parts. 

“Unless you have important business, considering how much you guys seem to be dreading the sex scene we could just do that now.” Marc explained. 

“I dunno man that could take a lot of mental preparation.” Alfred shrugged and looked over to see Arthur with the most unamused face known to man, albeit, at the same time, it made him look funny with his iconic eyebrows. The two blondes then had a stare down as Marc watched from the side realising that it was only awkward for him, for a reason the enthusiastic director couldn’t figure out. 

Several minutes later and a reluctant agreement they prepared for the scene. 

Most hoped that it would only take an hour or so, but that hour was used for signing consent papers and other boring, although important, documents. In reality, both Alfred and Arthur would have rather gone home, but here they still were. 

“When you two are prepared we will meet in room eleven and decide what goes on from there.” Marc decided, and then spent the next five minutes discussing how the scene was going to go. Eventually, Marc called the meeting to an end and ordered for Alfred and Arthur to visit the costume department and makeup department for final preparations before they went back on camera. 

Arthur sighed, walking to the costume department first, grabbing his costume for the scene from his new designer known as Lily, who was the little sister of the assistant director. The young girl, who was probably also an intern from a nearby university, seemed a bit frightened with Arthur walking into the room and snatching his costume, he muttered an apology before quickly leaving again and finding Anri, who automatically sat Arthur down in the seat. 

“What is it now?” She asked, grabbing makeup remover to get the last scene’s makeup off and put different stuff on. 

Arthur sighed, most of the frustration he had built up for the scene had left, even though he still much rather have been at home doing this instead of here in a studio after hours. Despite that, he knew that it was still with Alfred and that everything would likely go smoothly. The thing he was feeling now was nervousness or just a high dose of anxiety for other reasons. 

“You better do a bloody good job.” Arthur mumbled, earning a plop of skin coloured liquid foundation on his face and a giggle from Anri, who was standing to the side of him. 

“You’ll be doing this with Alfred, it will be fine.” She assured him, running the brush lightly down the side of his face, Arthur took a deep breath again and relaxed in the chair. Somehow, Marc had built up the scene to sound like something that was going to be cast to the whole world live, but once he thought about it it was less nerve wracking than it thought it might be because he knew that Marc was overly dramatic sometimes.

Throughout his time in the makeup chair he kept telling himself that it was Alfred, someone who managed to keep his eccentric personality but yet was very gentle with Arthur's situation, while also continuing to keep it a secret. Two, there was only going to be a maximum of six people in the room, including himself and Alfred. The other four being Marc, Parcy, and two different cameras that Alfred and Arthur had agreed on having. In other cases some pairs may have only been comfortable with one camera, but after a quick talk by themselves they decided on two, so they could assure that they wouldn’t have to refilm anything. 

Not that it would have been a problem of course. 

“Thank you, Anri.” Arthur smiled, liking the help that Anri always offered as she moved down his neck and tugged at the shirt that he was wearing. Anri took a quick look over to the door, making sure it was locked, before motioning for Arthur to remove his shirt so she could recover the wounds that littered his back. 

“No problem, Arthur.” Anri smiled. 

Anri had gotten strict orders to keep the amount of makeup to a minimum because most would most likely smear or be sweated off and unto the bed sheets. However, there was no possible way to cover up such severe bruises and deep cuts with a small amount of makeup. The Belgian ended up doing everything she did normally and spraying a bottle of hairspray onto the newly painted wounds on the small of Arthur’s back and shoulders. 

The smaller lady gave Arthur a small reassuring pat on the bicep and sent him off for the next leg of his journey with a wink and a “Have fun!” to which Arthur rolled his eyes and strutted down the hallway to his and Alfred’s dressing room. 

Alfred was in the middle of putting his button up shirt on when Arthur busted through the door. 

“You good, Artie? We can still back out if you want to.” Alfred reassured, seeing Arthur at the door with a blank expression. He closed the door behind him and set his outfit that was in plastic wrap on the back of the chair with his name engraved on the back of it. 

The light haired blonde shook his head and started to unpack the era pleasing outfit from the plastic.

“I was just quite worried about–” Arthur stopped for a second wanting to forget that it was there and just let it heal. “...Anri has assured me that it would be fine.” Alfred smiled and finished buttoning the shirt turning to Arthur. 

“Whaddya think?” Alfred asked, holding his arms to the side so Arthur could get a full view of his handiwork. 

Arthur giggled, glimpsing over to the American, “I think you’ve done it wrong.” Arthur walked over to Alfred and unbuttoned the buttons that were placed in the wrong holes and fixed the crooked shirt. 

Alfred then looked like there was a lightbulb above his head.

“How about I dress you and you dress me?” Alfred said with a goofy grin, reaching behind Arthur to grab the intricate outfit off the chair to examine it. 

“Won’t that prove to be counter productive later?” Arthur wondered, moving his eyes up for a second to look at his boyfriend through his eyelashes. 

“Yeah sure, but it will loosen the tension.” Alfred nodded like he was telling himself that he was right and that Arthur should agree. 

“Tension?” Arthur questioned, still looking up at Alfred through his eyelashes and finishing buttoning the top of the shirt. “I think there's better ways to do that.” 

Alfred took the words right out of his mouth, or in this case, stopped them all together. Arthur leaned up a slight bit to achieve the same height as Alfred and get a better angle by turning his head. Alfred let out a soft sigh and reached behind Arthur to put a hand on the back of the chair to have a sturdy hold while his other hand crept to sit just below Arthur’s shoulder blades on the curve of his torso. 

“Save it for a little later.” Arthur insisted, earning a pout from Alfred, who reluctantly agreed and pulled away with the exception of a few wet kisses on the side of Arthur's face and neck.

The little comments were not subtle, but just enough to give Arthur the confidence that nothing catastrophic would happen while they did ‘it’ in a room full of four other people. 

Once they got down to the room in full costume, everything was as it would normally be while filming an everyday scene. The director was talking with the camera people and where they would be filming while Parcy walked over to the new arrivals and started speaking over the storyboard. 

“Now we know that these sort of things never follow the storyboard and they just kind of go off on their own track, but if we can keep it close to what is going on in this, then that would be great.” Marc said after he finished talking with the camera operators. 

Arthur put back on his facade and prepared for something he knew he would have to do again in his lifetime due to his career. However, this time was different, knowing that the person that he would be with was his own partner was an added bonus. 

“Let’s get this over with.” Arthur said, crossing his arms and putting on a scowl. 

Alfred, on the other hand, was quite happy with the situation, not only was he getting to have sex during work, but he was also on some mental level coming out to nobody in particular. 

**_____**

The scene had now been going for approximately five minutes and to say the least, it was awkward, naturally. Alfred had leaned into Arthur’s ear for a second while they were tumbling through the door simply whispering that he should just pretend that they weren’t even there. Arthur would’ve rolled his eyes at the useless information if he wasn’t on camera and if his lips weren’t currently over ran again by Alfred’s, who was now working at the outfit that was purposely designed to be easy to take off while still looking expensive and era worthy. 

When Arthur was left without the long flowing half of his outfit, he knew that it wouldn’t be long before Alfred had the rest of the outfit off and Arthur would be standing naked. Because of that, Arthur started turning Alfred and dragging him to the bed. Alfred eventually caught on and gently brought Arthur down onto the bed so that his back wouldn’t hit it too hard, just like he had always done. Arthur's hands, after getting a secured and comfortable place on the bed, were tangled up Alfred’s button up shirt that was only done up a few minutes ago by Arthur himself. The Englishman couldn’t help but smile through the kiss as he realised that he was right in saying that it would just be counter productive. 

Arthur was the first one to let out an airy gasp when Alfred moved from his lips down to his chest, running his warm hands down Arthur’s torso, opening the shirt he was wearing a little more after every pressed kiss. The only thought running through Arthur’s head, currently, was that he was wondering why Alfred didn’t  _ actually  _ do that in the bedroom in the first place. It was almost disappointing. 

However, the prideful American made up for it by kissing Arthur’s lips again and giving Arthur the upper hand to flip them over and sit on Alfred’s lap as the blonde man worked Arthur’s shirt off. Finally, he was left in the tights that always made their comeback and the short shorts that were always placed over them for modesty. 

Even when it was a staged scene with no script whatsoever it seemed as if Alfred and Arthur had their own script with all the perfect hand coordinations and kisses pressed to the perfect places. It was certainly enough to get the two doing the scene hot and bothered along with a few behind the camera. The producer, who had insisted that he watch and made sure that it was going well behind the camera, ended up leaving all sweaty and red faced. 

Alfred 's hands were pressed to Arthur’s fishnetted thighs in an attempt to reach up and pull them off. 

Alfred breathed as Arthur switched the roles, he started giving instead of Alfred, who looked to be in a catatonic state as Arthur embraced the nature of his role and started doing the things that most others might have been terrified to do. That’s when they heard the door to the set open once and yet another person was out. 

Once the top half of Alfred’s clothing was off, leaving his bare chest, Arthur ran his hands down it and left Alfred to flip them over one more time so Arthur could put his leg over Alfred’s hips, that were starting to be seen with how low his trousers were starting to become. 

Around this time, albeit, it was unknown to the two in the bed Marc had ordered for the cameramen to get out of the room, but leave the cameras rolling, as he and everyone else cleared out. There wasn’t a specific reason for why, Marc just figured that it would be best for both of the actors if they were left to their own devices. 

As Arthur and Alfred were in their own little world, they continued on as normal, completely aware that the camera’s were set up perfectly so that they didn’t show any of the explicit content. 

With everything said and done, the two ended up passing out next to each other in the set’s bed. After all, they had started filming late due to several different reasons, putting it around ten o’clock or sometime close to then. 

Alfred had woken up for a brief second to see that Marc and a cameraman had come back in the room to end the camera footage. Marc had hovered over the bed for a second contemplating whether or not to wake the two up so they could go back home, instead he took note of their comfortable position in the bed curled up next to each other under the light sheet and decided against it. Alfred hadn’t stayed awake long enough to see the lights and cameras turned off or Marc locked the door of set eleven as he walked out of the room. 

If you were to ask Alfred or Arthur the strangest thing they had ever done on set in the after hours, they might have told you that falling asleep together on a set in front of a room full of people that didn’t know they were even in a relationship was possibly the strangest thing. 

**_____**

The next morning consisted of Arthur trying to figure out where he was before he realised that they must have fallen asleep on the set. Arthur’s face automatically went red considering that the cameraman had most likely taken and was editing the footage that was filmed last night. 

Arthur groaned and flopped back on the bed recoiling as he felt the hair sprayed bandages move. He then realised that the only form of clothing that he had brought into the room were the costume clothes that it would be highly uncomfortable to put back on and sneak out of the room and back to the dressing room in. The blonde turned on his side instead of his back so that he was facing Alfred, who was still sound asleep. 

There wasn’t a clock in the room so it was impossible to tell what time it was unless you could tell what time it was through a closed window. Arthur squinted his eyes at the window that must have been closed while they were sleeping which meant that somebody had been in the room while they were still sleeping. First he hoped that it was just Marc instead of an assistant, who happened to be some of the biggest gossips in the business. Either way, if somebody had been in the room it might mean that they brought a change of clothes for the two. 

The answer for Arthur was sadly a no. Laying down again from looking around the room for his way out, Arthur let out a huff and stared at the dark coloured ceiling with the most unamused face he could muster. A soft grumble next to him brought him out of his head as he stared at Alfred, who was most likely glad that Arthur had made him take out his contact lenses before they started filming, but it meant that he couldn’t see much and he was blinking trying to get a grasp of the situation that Arthur had been in just moments before. 

After noticing Alfred’s bare chest he finally had his plan of escape, Alfred shirts had always been a tad bit big on him, and if he had correctly guessed a time close to the time that it was, then most of the main cast and employees were certainly not there yet. 

“G’morning, Artie.” Alfred said, relieved at the fact that it was just Arthur in the same bed as him. 

“Morning, love.” Arthur quickly slid off the bed and put his eyes to the floor, looking for the magical piece of discarded clothing. 

“Whatcha doin’?” Alfred asked, turning to the side that Arthur was on and put his head on his hands as if they were his own little pillow. 

“Ah. There it is.” Arthur reached to the floor, pulling up the white dress shirt, and slipping it on his arms and looking down to start buttoning the front of it. Alfred’s smile faded when he saw what Arthur was doing. 

“Leavin’ so soon?” Alfred frowned, sitting up and stretching his long arms over his head. 

Arthur walked over to Alfred’s side of the bed, he sat down next to him and pressed a kiss to Alfred’s pouting face. 

“Yes, you can leave right after I do, but just so there is no speculation.” Arthur explained, restoring the smile on the American’s face. Alfred nodded and let Arthur hand him his pants from the floor. Arthur gave him one last kiss before walking out of the door, closing it behind him, and making his way down the hall that luckily had no other people roaming around in it. 

Alfred followed him into the dressing room a few minutes later. 

“I think, for once, we are earlier than everybody else.” Alfred joked, earning an eye roll from Arthur. 

“Okay, thanks dude!” Alfred acknowledged. 

“Put me down.” Arthur struggled, trying to cross his arms as Alfred still held up in the slightly uncomfortable position. 

“Aw, but it’s so easy to admire your butt from here.” Alfred patted Arthur’s toosh, to which the blonde started flailing at and demanded to be let down. Alfred was laughing as he set Arthur down, to see the scowl and crossed arms that always represented Arthur, in a good way of course. 

Arthur was currently thinking back to the time where he wished he could have kissed that smile right off the happy American’s face, now that he could it seemed like the time to do so. Arthur quickly looked toward the door that was opened, shut it, and turned back to Alfred. The taller man was still laughing at his little display that Arthur seemed to have hated. Arthur lifted to his toes and locked his lips with Alfred, who was surprised at first but leaned down into it, still smiling. Much to Arthur’s disapproval.


	17. “If you like causing trouble up in hotels rooms, and if you love having secret little rendezvous…”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “IT’S ZE AWESOME ME! OPEN YOUR DOOR OR I’LL BREAK INTO YOUR HOUSE OR KIDNAP YOUR BRUDER! OW!” Alfred’s eyes went wide when he heard Gilbert knocking at the door and then his younger brother's voice. The two lovers scrambled to get out of the sheets, Alfred falling off the bed and making a loud thud before hearing laughing from Arthur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Perfect by One Direction. 
> 
> I feel like I did like/appreciate any of the one Direction music until after they broke up... oh well. 
> 
> Gill is a hoot, lol. Anywho I think this might be one of my favorites because of everything Gilbert gets up to, as well as the rest of the gang, of course.

**Chapter Seventeen: Tickets**

At the end of the week, at approximately six pm, the majority of cast and crew members were lined up inside of a private airport doing final checks of actors and equipment before boarding the five hour flight across the country to do a show. 

However, the English and American men had taken Alfred’s private plane, along with a few other people, to New York a day earlier. Those that had joined them included; Marc, who had to get different things set up before anyone else could come to New York to complete the show, and the rest consisted of Francis, Antonio, Gilbert, Feliciano, Lovino, Ludwig, Mathias, and a very reluctant Lukas, who agreed to follow Mathias to New York, since he already had tickets to the show. 

The producer had announced that tickets had been sent to all of the actors' relatives and people who wanted to come to have first pick of seats or they sent tickets for the show and for them to fly to the performance in New York. In other words, the production was slowly becoming a larger and larger spectacle.

Out of the entirety of the cast, Alfred had been the only one to ever be in what the studio was calling a “Broadway show”, seeing as it was being treated as such and did have elements of one, which meant that he wouldn’t stop talking about it the whole plane ride. After the plane had landed the group had split in two, Francis, Antonio, Lovino, Ludwig, Feliciano, Gilbert, Mathias, and Lukas had taken a limousine to the hotel that was several blocks away from the stage as Alfred’s town car, ordered by Kiku, who would also be flying to New York for the show, picked them up and brought them to Alfred’s parents house. Part of the reasoning for this was that Ameila had insisted that they stay the night before going to the condo the next day, since they were a day early after all, and she missed them both dearly. Somehow Alfred’s condo, the rest of the cast's hotel, and the theater were only a few blocks from each other, therefore everything worked out perfectly in terms of vicinity. 

This time, before the driver had even pulled up to the house, Amelia had scrambled out of the door leaving Allen in the dust. 

“Arthur!” Alfred’s mom screamed, running out of the house with her arms wide open and reaching to hug the Brit. 

“Mom? I thought I was your favourite son?” Alfred’s eyes were wide and he started sniffling as if he was going to cry. 

Arthur laughed a little, “I hate to tell you Alfred, but I think you’ve been replaced.” Arthur played along squeezing the older woman and then passing her off to Alfred, who just as tightly hugged her back. 

Amelia laughed and motioned for her husband to get out of the house and take the luggages. Arthur had insisted that he could do it himself, but once again the persistent mother of his boyfriend said that they should just follow her inside so she could chat about everything and nothing, even though the last time she had seen the two was only a few weeks ago. 

Amelia took them in and sat them at the table, getting a tray of drinks that they each took when she offered. 

Alfred looked at his mother then reached for Arthur’s back pocket, to which the Brit jumped at the touch and gave Alfred a look, scowling when the American started laughing. An hour before they had gotten onto the plane Alfred had told Arthur to hold the show tickets for him so he wouldn’t lose them. When the producers were sending out the tickets Alfred personally asked if he could hand deliver his to surprise his very enthusiastic mother. The co-producer had smiled and gave him the tickets to hold on to. The tickets that were left after the ones that were sent out filled the next three levels of the theater and had ultimately sold out in two days' time. 

“I have a surprise, you have to promise that you won’t wake the neighbourhood when I give them to you.” Alfred grinned, holding the envelope that he was taken out of Arthur’s pocket. 

The woman looked puzzled for a second before looking down at what Alfred was currently holding out. Arthur stood next to Alfred with a genuine smile on his face, almost wishing that Amelia and Allen could just adopt him even though he was twenty three and dating their son. But they didn't know that...yet.

However, as soon as the little blonde woman grasped the tickets she ended up squealing like a pig. “Alfred Jones! You told me that you might not be able to get any!” Arthur laughed knowing that Alfred had lied to his mother about it to surprise her. 

  
“I didn’t say that! Plus you were going to get them one way or another. There’s one for Dad and one for Matt if he’s around here somewhere.” Alfred said, bending down to let the smaller lady hug him with an arm around his neck. Alfred’s face contorted into something different before Amelia pulled away, a mixture of amusement and guilt, but he fixed it when she looked at him again.

“And you–” Amelia pointed to Arthur, who was standing minding his own business a little ways away from Alfred. “Please tell me that you finally stopped putting you in those ridiculous outfits?” 

“No, I am afraid not.” Arthur replied. The women visibly frowned. “But it is only until we finish filming.” Arthur said, trying to change the subject 

“Ooh, is it almost done?” Amelia’s eyes sparkled with interest, running down the different road of a different topic. Allen had already given up on talking and continued his agenda in the living room watching what sounded like Jeopardy. 

“Not even close, Mom.” Alfred chimed in, pulling out a chair of the kitchen counter for his two favourite people. 

Alfred’s mother frowned again, “Would you mind telling me good news instead?” 

Alfred thought for a second, and looked over to Arthur, who looked just as confused as Amelia did. “There will be a surprise for you at the end of the show, I promise.” Amelia’s eyes lit up. 

“This is why you're my equally favourite son.” The short blonde haired lady boasted with a signature smile that made the skin around her mouth wrinkle. 

“Equal? To who?” 

“Matthew and my adopted son Arthur, of course!” She joked, laughing. She stood up from her seat walking to Alfred and pressing a kiss on his cheek, “Now, you can either take the couch or if Arthur will allow you to again you can stay with him.” 

“Artie?” Alfred looked wide eyed at the other blonde, maneuvering so he could see Arthur, who sat across the table. 

Arthur looked as if he were contemplating. He shook his head, “I don’t know, last time you kept kicking me.” Arthur said in a sly tone crossing his arms and taunting Alfred. 

“Aw, come on, Artie! Just tonight?” Alfred pleaded, hating that he was in a way lying to his mother again by trying to keep him and Arthur a secret. 

“I suppose, but this time stay on your side of the bed.” Arthur acted, giving into Alfred’s request with a smile, he uncrossed his legs to stand up and eye Alfred one last time before looking toward Amelia with a different look as Alfred fist pumped the air in victory

“I apologise for arriving so late again, but we must be getting some rest before the rehearsal tomorrow.” Arthur smiled at Amelia, who nodded quickly and approved Arthur’s request. 

“But before you do, if you don’t mind can I check your back? Just to make sure it is healing properly.” Amelia reasoned. Arthur nodded and started walking up the stairs behind Amelia, who was leading the way in her lovely pale yellow dress. 

As Alfred jumped and face planted into the bed getting comfortable. Amelia had taken a swift trip to the bathroom as Arthur sat himself down on the bed and looked at Alfred, whose face was buried in the duvet. 

“Alfred has been doing the bandages lately so I do think that they are doing well.” Arthur detailed. 

“See? I’m not that bad of a fuck up.” Alfred mumbled into the sheets. 

“Language Alfred.” Amelia scolded. 

“But Mom! I’m twenty one and out of the house now!” Alfred responded, lifting his head from the sheet and watching his mom undercover Arthur’s old bandages to reveal the nasty rips in Arthur’s skin. 

“No buts, you are in my house right now.” Amelia reminded, not even flinching when Arthur’s back was uncovered. 

“If you can, you should leave your wounds to air out for tonight. Seeing as they are always covered by bandages it may not heal as quickly or healthily. I know it hurts, but just use Al as a cushion or something to keep off your back, alright dear?” Amelia analysed, Arthur nodded and eyed Alfred, who had gotten up from the bed and uncovered his side of the bed.

“And Arthur?” The women whispered, quiet enough so that Alfred couldn’t hear as he walked into the bathroom. 

“If he is too stubborn to make the first move then you do it yourself.” Amelia said sternly but with a warm smile, leaving Arthur confused and a bit guilty, wondering if those words could have been close to the words that she had told Alfred earlier. Once again, Arthur nodded and watched the kind lady back out of the room and most likely join her husband downstairs. 

Arthur readied himself for bed and hopped into bed after Alfred was done in the bathroom, he made sure to keep his night shirt off like Amelia had said to do. If had been strange wearing only pajama bottoms instead of just a pajama top or both, ever since his manager had been hired he had always kept a shirt on no matter what he was doing, the sex scene a few days ago had been an exception. 

The blonde opened his eyes again when he felt a dip in the bed next to him, Alfred’s eyes were no longer dressed in his glasses and his chest was also lacking a shirt. 

“I think I have a problem.” Alfred’s statement caused panic to rise in Arthur. 

“Oh? What could it possibly be now?” Arthur asked, sitting up on his forearms and stomach. 

“I promised Mom a surprise at the end of the show, and I don’t want to disappoint her.” Alfred confessed, rolling to his back to stare at the blurry ceiling. 

“What were you thinking, love?” Arthur asked 

“I was thinking that during curtain call I could just pull you in, kiss you on the lips, and let the crowd go wild. You can probably already tell how much she has wanted me to be in a serious relationship, but I have never been able to deliver.” Alfred daydreamed. 

“I think you’ve been working in the film industry for too long.” Arthur chuckled, rolling so that he was in the crook of Alfred’s arms and torso, “Regardless, it sounds like a lovely idea.” 

Alfred eyes that were half lidded popped open wide again, “Really?! You’d let me do that?” 

“I don’t see why not.” Arthur nodded. Inside, he was confirming to himself that it was what he also wanted; to finally tell everyone else about something that he had Alfred had kept a secret for some time. 

“This would basically be her dream come true. But then she will want us to get married and–” 

“That is too far ahead in time to think about.” Arthur interrupted, poking Alfred in the center of his toned chest. 

“Yeah, probably. But a possibility.” Alfred charmed in a whisper tone. Arthur hid his red face in his hand and focused on something else, such as Alfred’s soft hand rubbing circles up and down some of his back, a motion that eventually ended up putting Arthur to sleep. 

**____**

That morning, Arthur had woken up to something that he hadn’t heard or smelled in years. Downstairs, a homemade breakfast was being cooked by none other than Amelia herself, the sound of the radio could be heard as Arthur slowly made his way down the stairs putting on one of Alfred’s shirts to keep the fit loose around his back. 

Once Arthur neared the platform of the stairs the sounds of Alfred’s voice and what Arthur assumed to be Amelia’s voice were singing over the music that played from the radio. Arthur smiled, keeping himself hidden as he watched Alfred twirl his small mother around like a ballerina to what sounded like ‘ _ Mary Poppins _ ’ even though Alfred kept changing all of the ‘Mary’s’ in the song to Amelia’s name. 

Around the two minute mark is when Arthur figured he got caught by Matthew, Alfred’s younger brother and new captain of one of the leading Hockey teams in Canada, who took Amelia from Alfred and started dancing with her. Alfred looked lost for a second until he remembered that Arthur was sleeping upstairs. Tempted to have a dance battle to the songs from ‘ _ Mary Poppins’,  _ Alfred made a quick walk to the stairs only to see that Arthur was already standing there with a refreshing smile on his face. 

Alfred lightly tugged Arthur into the kitchen and placed a hand on Arthur’s hip, just as he had done with his mother, and guided Arthur around in a waltz around the tiled kitchen. He purposely bumped into Matthew a few times and grinned. Arthur tried not to giggle as Alfred started to sing the high part but as soon as Amelia joined in doing the male's parts as the four danced around the kitchen, Arthur ultimately lost his composure. After a brief instrumental moment in the song Arthur couldn’t help himself and quietly sang the part of the tune that was countering Alfred’s. Amelia smiled as her younger son led her in a circle around the kitchen. 

Once the song ended Amelia giggled and then shooed the kids out of her kitchen once again taking on her motherly duties. 

“Now, Matthew, you have practise at ten this morning and I’ve already packed your lunch.” Matthew smiled, thanking her sweetly saying that she didn’t have too. “And you two have to rehearse something today. So get dressed and breakfast will be ready when you are finished.” 

“Yes, Mom.” Alfred groaned, Arthur simply acknowledged her order. 

“Do you always do that with your mum?” Arthur wondered with a hint of a smile on his face. 

“It’s kind of just a sporadic thing.” Alfred smiled, grabbing a shirt from his luggage. 

“It’s quite lovely.” Arthur commented, earning a confused look from Alfred, who was pulling a different shirt over his head on the other side of the room 

“Don’t you do that with your mom?” Alfred questioned, taking off his glasses and walking over to the mirror to replace them with his contact lenses instead. 

Arthur cast his eyes downward to the floor, “I haven’t seen anyone in my family in years.” The answer was more a realisation than a pity statement. 

“Well, won’t they be at the show?” Alfred looked at Arthur, who was stepping into a pair of leather pants that Alfred had given up on wearing after just one experience.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they weren’t.” Arthur found that he wasn’t affected by the fact that his parents wouldn’t be there, he had survived six years without them already as sad as that sounded. Seeing as he had quite a few other siblings, building a strong relationship with his parents like Alfred had was mostly out of the question as they were always busy with something. It wasn’t that he had a bad relationship with them, but there were a fair few arguments here and there and the distance certainly didn’t help. 

“If they don’t then I can share mine.” Alfred offered, enticing a smile from Arthur, who rolled his eyes and let Alfred rewrapped gauze and bandages around his back so Anri, who was most likely just landing in New York now or in a few minutes ago with everybody else, could pile makeup on top of it and cover it up. 

Amelia then showed Arthur and her son to the door, giving each a kiss on the cheek and handing them brown paper bag lunches. She then stood on the porch to watch the two climb into the black town car with tinted windows, one of which Alfred rolled down to wave goodbye to her through. 

The car would drop them off five or six blocks from Alfred’s penthouse while the chauffeur would then go to the penthouse and deliver both of their bags and continue on his day until later that evening when rehearsals were over. 

The theater was placed on a basic New York City street next to a large shopping center. The outside of the building housed a large sign, like any normal theater, and many other posters for other shows lined up outside of it, including the one for their show tomorrow night. Arthur felt himself go red at the picture that the company in charge of production chose to make the main cover for the show. At the time they hadn’t been filming the main movie yet, so it was a picture or scene taken during rehearsals of him and Alfred lip locked and seemingly enjoying it. 

Arthur groaned and looked to Alfred, who was more shocked than anything as they reluctantly got out of the car and were bombarded by a flash mob of cameras. Lucky for them the entrance was a few steps off the street. An assistant from the studio, who must have flown in with all the rest of the cast and crew smiled at the two and, as if she was waiting for them, starting leading them through a grandly decorated foyer and down a few stairs to get into what looked like an everyday backstage that one could find anywhere. 

The young woman led them to a dressing room and then addressed that everyone else was already on stage doing some kind of warm up. Arthur nodded and noted that everyone of his and Alfred film outfits had also made their way across the country and were hung in an orderly fashion on a decorative rack opposite of the two vanity mirrors and two directors chairs. The assistant had then waited for them to put any extra belongings they had brought into the room, before having the two blondes follow her again. This time they went into another stairway through a technical room that was behind the curtains of the stage. 

The sounds of people talking grew as they reached the top of the stairs, as soon as they had walked onto the dark wooden stage Marc had immediately quit talking and waited until they were equally involved in the conversation and crowd to start his speech again. 

“I will recap for our newcomers.” Marc started glancing at Alfred and Arthur, “This is going to be a full dress rehearsal, meaning all of you, are going to be in costume, sets with be brought out, and we will go over lines that are most difficult even though for the past three days you really should have brushed up on them. Anything else?” Marc looked around, “Oh yeah, for all tickets that were issued to friends and family, they will all be sitting in the first five rows in the main three sectiona of seats near the stage.” The crowd nodded and looked out in the empty rows of seats. 

Once the announcements were out of the way, everyone was sent off to get into full costumes and makeup. 

Arthur met with Anri, who had a look of excitement plastered to her youthful face. 

“I can’t believe it!” She had almost shouted as soon as Arthur had walked into the dressing room that Anri had been placed in, it just so happened that it was placed in the completely opposite wing of Arthur and Alfred’s dressing room, that happened to be causing some panic to rise in Arthur. 

“Believe what?” Arthur asked, curious of what could be on her mind. 

The smile seemed to loosen a bit as she thought about it for a second, “That they decided to make a movie, that was still in progress, into a live show!” She realised, still smiling. Arthur rolled his eyes and humored the woman with an amused smile of his own as she started doing the makeup for the first scene of the twenty or so that would be completed. 

During a meeting to discuss how the stage version was going to be done a few weeks ago, it was proposed that they split it into different scenes since there were so many designs and dynamics to figure out. In the end, the show was split into a little over twenty parts that followed the script and plot of the movie, along with the same dance scenes, leaving a few elements out of course.   


Anri moved lower to start covering up the bandages that Alfred had recently replaced, “Do you need any painkillers today, Mr. Kirkland?” The girl asked as if Arthur was her superior. 

“No.” Arthur answered quickly as Anri had paused her job for a second and let her smile grow even more, even though there was no possible way that she could ever out-smile Alfred. 

Anri looked to the ceiling and sniffled, “My day just keeps getting better and better. But you should be going now!” Anri urged, shooing Arthur out of the room with a smile. 

Arthur followed his daily regimen and found that Alfred was already fully dressed. 

“Whaddya think?” Alfred asked with a cocky grin on his face. 

“Charming, dashing, and everything above.” Arthur played along. 

“Perfect! Your turn.” Alfred spun back around on his heel and grabbed the sparkly corset outfit that had matching tights and heeled shoes. Arthur groaned and threw around the idea of just skipping practise and going shopping somewhere for non-needed, useless, and expensive clothing. After considering it a possibility and dismissing it, knowing that it would be unnecessary, he reluctantly let Alfred hand him the outfit to put on before letting the American lace up and seal the back so it was stiff and sparkly all around without any of the lace showing up. 

“My mom would be so mad.” Alfred frowned once the thing was on securely with the rest of the outfit. 

“Mmm.” Arthur acknowledged, feeling a bit guilty at the fact that he had forgotten the fact that she would have to watch him prance around on a bright stage in the outfits, she had specifically told him not to wear, for two and a half hours. 

The stage had already been decked up with intricate props and lights that made it look almost exactly like the set they had back home. Roderich’s orchestra was set up to the right side of the stage on some of the stage and mostly on the floor where a few front row seats had to be removed for the performance and put elsewhere. 

Arthur’s role didn’t start until part three so he had taken a seat next to the rest of the cast and Marc in the chairs directly in front of the stage. For the first scene there was a brief rundown of Alfred running through his lines in another sad looking and dark room. The second scene was in a similar room with different lighting just as it was in the movie with the stage group Antonio, Alfred, Tino, Berwald, and Mathias in a small room contemplating different words after Alfred had given a summary of what the following scenes would be about. 

Seconds later, after a very quick wardrobe change, everything took a turn when Feliks started floating from the ceiling. The people sitting in the seats watched, laughing and in amusement, as Feliks sang with the rest of the people on the stage below. Once there was a transition, Arthur was already backstage and being lifted onto a platform so he could do almost the exact same thing that Feliks had just done. Once Francis was done grinding his way across the stage is when Arthur made his appearance that cued the three dance scenes is the third part. This time, there were fewer pairs of dancers, allowing the attention of the audience to be directed to Alfred and Arthur. Occasionally, a few other dancers would take the spotlight instead when the lead pair ceased their dialogue. 

It had been an hour and a half of constant minor makeup changes and faster than lightening wardrobe changes in between scenes, they were able to take a break in the middle for what would be an intermission, and then continue with the rest of the show. It had been then and only then that Marc had ever called cut. Alfred’s role in the movie called for him to start walking out of the theater, which he obviously couldn’t do, so instead Marc had suggested that he walk out into the crowd and the seats. 

The American had been overjoyed to do such a stunt, he had always loved the fact that he could see from the audience's perspective instead of the stage perspective. He also got to see what Arthur had looked like from far away in his beautifully designed white and ivory corset and long coat that mostly pooled at his feet as he sang the next verse to the song. However, the seats were not split down the middle so Alfred opted for choosing one side to walk down, which would determine the place that Gilbert’s character would be sitting among the crowd during the last part of the show.

The next scene played out as well as a curtain call that was in the film. It was a time when Alfred had to tell himself not to lean over and kiss Arthur who stood right next to him listening to Marc give some final words before they left and would have to do the same thing the next day. 

Arthur was sure that he was about to collapse once they had made it back to the town car and through the onslaught of photographers. Alfred had ended up carrying him into the building of the penthouse that was, luckily, not swarmed by pesky photographers and fans looking for a cheeky photo. 

Arthur smiled reminding himself of the last time that they had been in the apartment together. It had been the day that Alfred took it upon himself to place a file for new management under Kiku for Arthur, and under his own name so that if Arthur’s ex manager looked at it he wouldn’t automatically target Arthur again. 

“You gotta work with me, Artie.” Alfred sighed, carrying Arthur through the door of the elevator. 

“I quite like sitting here instead.” Arthur taunted wrapping his arms around Alfred’s neck and leaning in, before sitting up after his little ruse was over with, “And excuse me for having to wear such ridiculous costumes that make my legs go numb.” 

Alfred smirked, though Arthur couldn’t see it based on where his head was placed on Alfred’s broad shoulder, “I think I know another way that your legs could go numb.” Alfred turned around, dropping Arthur onto the bed. 

Arthur then took the time to hit Alfred in the face. 

“Ow, Artie, I need that!” Alfred said, rubbing his face. 

“You should have thought about that before getting all righteous with me.” Arthur crossed his arms and leaned back into the bed, tempted to lay off the scolding and lay down on the bed and sleep or just watch the sunset from the window that overlooked the rest of the city. 

“Aw, but I just wanted to kiss you.” Alfred pouted, looking back down at Arthur, who was staring back up at him and then motioned for the blue eyed blonde to come down toward him again. Arthur kissed his cheek as if to apologise for lightly hitting him in the face before moving to Alfred’s lips. He could feel the American’s smile as he started moving them so that they were no longer hanging off the bed while they caught each other’s lips over and over, starting to tug at each other’s clothes. 

Most of the clothing was off before there was a skittish knock on the door, a few whispers, and then a louder knock. The penthouse was made for security and the elevator led straight into the penthouse when a key was inserted or they were buzzed in. After the elevator door there was a simple door that was closed except for when Alfred knew that people would be coming over. Though, he wasn’t aware that anyone had been coming over so it should have been closed. 

Arthur had stopped kissing him for a second, but kept his bare arms wrapped tightly around Alfred’s neck and shoulders as they looked at each other with questioning eyes hoping that the disturbance would just go away. 

“IT’S ZE AWESOME ME! OPEN YOUR DOOR OR I’LL BREAK INTO YOUR HOUSE OR KIDNAP YOUR BRUDER! OW!” Alfred’s eyes went wide when he heard Gilbert knocking at the door and then his younger brother's voice. The two lovers scrambled to get out of the sheets, Alfred falling off the bed and making a loud thud before hearing laughing from Arthur. 

“Get some clothes on, wanker! Or we are going to be caught.” Arthur whisper-yelled, watching Alfred scatter around the room grabbing clothes from anywhere he could find them and put them on. 

“FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE.” Gilbert started counting. 

“Shit.” Arthur cursed, grabbing his own wad of clothing, kicking some under the bed and marching off to the bathroom, leaving Alfred to throw a random pair of clothes on. 

Arthur heard, while changing in the bathroom, that Alfred had opened the door, and by noting the stillness on the other side, Alfred had less than parly put on his clothing. Arthur snickered, trying to imagine what his idiot boyfriend looked like currently, while stuttered to make excuses. 

“Al, what’s with your shirt, eh?” Matthew asked. Alfred looked down at a shirt that was obviously a bit too small for him. 

“Uh, Arthur and I were having a contest.” Alfred stuttered. 

“Vhat kind of contest?” Gilbert laughed, encircling around Alfred to get a better look at his outfit. 

At this point is where Arthur finished up and joined Alfred in the living room, in his normal clothing. 

“Oh, hello Matthew, Gilbert.” Arthur said politely, messing with one of the cuffs on his sleeve to get it buttoned again, before going to stand next to Alfred and take a look at him and try his best not to burst out laughing. 

“Hi Arthur.” Matthew greeted back 

“What brings you here? And Alfred please put some decent clothes on.” Arthur looked to Alfred one last time before the man ran off to the bedroom that Arthur had just emerged from, he hoped that the two still standing outside the door wouldn’t notice. 

“Mattie and the Awesome me are going to go play pranks on the rest of the unawesome people at the hotel and we figured you guys should come along.” Gilbert explained as Arthur let the two into the actual penthouse. 

Alfred then bursted out the bedroom, “I’m in! As long as you are, Artie!” Arthur quite liked the idea of getting to prank Francis. 

At the same time Matthew had turned around giving Gilbert an expression that was borderline ‘No’ and ‘Why the fuck’.

“I never agreed to that, Gil.” 

“Too late we are doing it anyway!” Gilbert cheered excitedly. Alfred and Arthur grabbed their jackets and followed Matthew, who had given in, and Gilbert to the hotel that was only a few blocks away. 

On the way everyone had made small talk, Matthew and Arthur had gotten to talking about the last time that Matthew had been in California and met up with Alfred and Francis, the two had a laugh when the Canadian had explained what happened in the morning. 

About four blocks away from the penthouse is when the four managed to get themselves into a ruffle. The tourist blocks were filled with people who were trying to get the last of sightseeing by central park done before the sun set in an hour. A group of people had caught a glimpse of the four and had possibly recognised them from the silver screens. Needless to say, a few wanted pictures, and Alfred had been more than happy to take them, Arthur just followed along with it and let himself be pulled into the pictures that Alfred wanted to take. Alfred had made idle chit chat with the fans that was around him oohing and ahhing about anything the American said.

“Yo Alfred, hurry it up man.” Gilbert said, grabbing Matthew’s hand like they were shameless of what anyone else thought about them or would think of their relationship that had only recently started. Apparently, Gilbert had been introduced to Matthew and they automatically hit it off, every weekend Gilbert would fly to wherever Matthew would be and plan a weekend together. 

Alfred captured Arthur’s eye and wondered if he could do the same thing even while the crowds eyes were still glued to the four of them. Arthur hesitated for a minute and just mouthed the word: “Tomorrow”, before he knew that Alfred was following him as they continued the next two blocks to the hotel. 

Once they were in the hotel, entered by Gilbert as he was the only one staying at the hotel and the security was tight, Arthur decided that his first victim was positively Francis. 

“Which room is Francis’?” Arthur asked, strolling down the hall with Alfred to his right, who was snickering. 

“Seventeen-eighteen.” Gilbert grinned, his peculiar laugh surfacing. “I think they vould’ve put you guys on the eighteenth floor.” 

“Isn’t the eighteenth floor just one giant room?” Alfred asked. 

“Kesesesese, exactly.” Gilbert laughed, earning a hard unamused stare from Arthur that told him to ‘piss off’. 

All at once they had gotten quiet after getting off of the elevator and walking a ways. During the long lift ride, they had thought of shitty tricks to put on people. For Francis, however, Gilbert would go in first, give Francis hard liquor and put a camera in the room. Then they would have a maid, or somebody dressed as a maid, deliver lingerie to Francis’ door and see what he does with it. Arthur was convinced that Francis just wore lingerie everyday and that there was no point, but Gilbert was convinced that they should do it anyway. 

They had walked past Francis’ room to go to Gilbert’s to get their battle plan set up. The four sat in a circle around a marble coffee table in deciding silence, the air was thick in contemplation about who would go out and get the supplies they needed. 

“I call not it!” Gilbert yelled. 

“Me either.” Arthur said more subtly, crossing his arms and legs so he couldn’t get up and walk. 

“Okay, Alfred you get the lacy lingerie, anybody would sell you that, and Matthew you get the liquor.” Gilbert settled. 

“Gil, I am not even allowed to buy alcohol in the U.S. I am younger than Alfred in case you didn’t remember.” Matthew sat next to Gilbert and rolled his eyes. 

“Oh yeah, I’ll just come with you then.” Gilbert said. 

“Then I am staying here.” Alfred nodded, getting more comfortable on the couch that he and Arthur were sitting in. 

“And leave you two here in the same room with a bed? Nein.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean, you bloody twit.” Arthur scowled, not liking the fact that Gilbert was assuming things even if they were true, because if he could then so could anyone else. 

About twenty minutes later, after Gilbert and Matthew had split from Alfred and Arthur ten minutes ago, the night just kept getting worse. Alfred’s phone map had led them straight to a Victoria’s secret, that was unsurprisingly still opened, even at seven, nearly eight, in the evening. 

“Hello! What can we help you gentlemen with tonight?” The clerk asked as they walked through the door. The two had put on sunglasses, even though the sun was starting to set, and hoodies. If anything it looked more like they were going to rob the place than buy anything. 

“We need something–uh–French and–” Arthur stuttered, not wanting to say the next word, “Lacy.” 

Behind him he could tell that Alfred was trying his best not to laugh. 

“Alright, right this way.” The taller women with long blonde hair lead them to a section of the store that was fairly secluded. Soon the clerk left them to go back to her work at the desk, Alfred started the trend of taking off the hood and the sunglasses to actually see the sinful colours of the store. 

“Let’s just get this over with before anybody recognises us shopping for– this.” Arthur sighed. 

“Hey Artie, would you wear this?” Alfred laughed, turning around toward Arthur, who was bright red with most likely fury and embarrassment. 

“Put that rubbish away!” Arthur scolded, grabbing the matching pair of green and black lingerie and throwing it on a shelf. Alfred smirked, Arthur had turned before he could see it, “Never mind that. Help me so we can get out of here, please.” 

“Alright, what’s his size?” Alfred asked, looking at the minimal pieces of fabric in front of him.

“How am I supposed to know? Most likely smaller than you but larger than myself.” Arthur said quickly. 

“How ‘bout this?” Alfred quizzed, holding up some questionable thing in front of Arthur. 

“That’s fine, let’s leave.” Arthur fumbled with the hood on the sweatshirt and put the sunglasses back on. Once they had gotten to the counter again the cheery and tall clerk rang them up and started talking, taking too long for Arthur’s liking. 

“Did you find everything okay?” She asked, Alfred nodded and Arthur slowly made his way out of the building as he let Alfred pay for everything with Francis’ credit card. 

The walk back was comfortably silent, save for the sounds of the city, the sounds of honking car horns, and nightlife chattering all around them as party-goers bar hopped getting to all of them on the strip before the clock hit twelve. Even though they were surrounded by different people who might not even give a second look to them, as they were dressed in disguising clothing, Arthur had still thought twice before letting Alfred take his hand and hold it as they walked block after block until they had gotten back to the hotel, where the same security guard stopped them before realising that they were with Gilbert. 

As the night slowly got darker, it also had gotten more unpredictable. Toward their way back to Gilbert’s hotel room, Feliciano’s door had abruptly opened, stopping Alfred and Arthur in their tracks. Ludwig came scrambling out after him. Arthur had almost had a heart attack until he realised that Alfred had let go of his hand to open the door to the foyer of the hotel downstairs. 

“IS IT TRUE?” Feliciano’s high pitched voice could be heard throughout the desolate hall, his face was a mix of pure happiness and hope, but also wonder and confusion. 

“What are you on about?” Arthur fiddled with his sunglasses that he had been holding for a while now. Arthur couldn’t imagine what Feliciano had on his cell phone that caused him to be so emotional. 

Feliciano turned the phone around. Ludwig, behind the Italian, facepalmed and tried to stutter out a quick apology, as Arthur and Alfred stared into the small screen of the phone. The phone had been opened to a website that Alfred automatically recognised and started sweating. 

“There’s nothing there Feliciano.” Arthur said puzzled, as he looked at the top of a home screen to some kind of website. Beside him Alfred didn’t need to scroll down to know that his heart might jump out of his face. 

“Oh! Sorry, one second!” Feliciano turned the phone so it faced him again and started scrolling down on the page, “I can’t believe you haven’t seen it yet!” The little man giggled as he turned the phone around again. Arthur and Alfred leaned in to see what was, this time, on the screen. 

Arthur’s eyes widened as he started at the screen. It was a lovely picture of himself and Alfred in the pool lip locked, Arthur’s hands were firmly held around Alfred’s neck and shoulders, as Alfred’s were tucked around Arthur’s waist and holding his lower back and butt. The dress shirt that Alfred had loaned Arthur that night was soaked through but didn’t show the open cuts on Arthur’s back, much to his delight. There were few details around the pool, such as Alfred’s dripping glasses and how the wind from the weather was blowing mist across the top of the pool, the light that was around the pool, to keep people from slipping, made for most of the light in the photo. It was clear and beautiful enough to where Arthur almost wanted to print it onto a large canvas and hang it in the living room. 

After a good minute or two of staring Arthur had said the two words that would change Feliciano’s hopes and dreams, “Lovely photoshop.” 

“Yeah, too bad it’s not real.” Alfred added. Immediately, Arthur and Alfred regretted what they had said, not only because the young Italian started despairingly sobbing in the taller German behind him, though he only came up to the German’s shoulder.

“I apologise for his outburst. He gets easily excited.” Ludwig excused the sensitive Italian. 

“I assure you that it is quite alright.” Arthur gave a small smile when the auburn haired man looked back at Alfred and Arthur, who stood stiffly in the hall. Feliciano sniffled one last time before untucking himself from hugging around Ludwig’s toned torso leaving a wet tear patch on the light blue dress shirt. 

“Just promise me that one day it will happen, right?” Feliciano said smalley. 

“Sure, little dude.” Alfred grinned, patting Feliciano’s auburn hair, his caramel coloured eyes widened and Alfred pat him on the head. 

“Ve~” Feliciano smiled, “Buona notte! Come on, Luddy!” Feliciano finalised, waving and tugging on Ludwig's hand. 

“Good night.” Arthur smiled, and sighed as soon as Ludwig had shut the door behind the forgetful Italian. 

“Bloody hell, Alfred, I thought your security team was there at the time!” Arthur sounded exasperated. 

“I thought they were too, Artie! Don’t blame this on me.” Alfred said sternly as they took the next turn down the hall toward Gilbert’s room. 

“I’m not, love. But this is a bit ridiculous.” Arthur sighed. 

“Do you want it off the internet?” Alfred interrogated, lightening his tone. 

“No. It truly is a lovely picture.” Arthur decided, wanting to do anything to get on his toes and peck Alfred on the lips, without having to risk someone seeing them. 

“Yeah, I say we throw it on a canvas and put it in the bedroom.” Alfred put his arms out in front of him making a square shape almost as if imagining it on the blank wall in the bedroom.

“The bedroom?” Arthur questioned, “That would be a bit strange wouldn’t it?” 

Alfred thought for a second, “Yeah, I guess you're right.” 

In a few more steps they reached the door and opened it with the spare key that the Prussian had given them and opened the door to Mathew, who was texting someone on his phone was laying on the couch. 

“There you are, jeez, you guys took forever.” Matthew said, looking up from his cell phone to Alfred and Arthur. 

“Something came up with Ludwig and Feliciano.” Alfred recalled. Arthur then quickly took off the hoodie that Gilbert and Matthew had lent them. 

“Oh, okay.” Matthew acknowledged, “Also Gilbert already went in there, turns out Francis was already drunk off wine, so we were just waiting for you too.” 

Gilbert came running into the room second later, out of breath from running down the hall, “Do you have it?!”

“Yeah, why?” Alfred asked with a curious and playful smile on his face that made him look like a very big kid. 

“He passed out, now is our chance.” Gilbert laughed and so did Alfred, making Arthur roll his eyes. 

Soon the four were running down the halls again like some wild boys in a hotel late at night. Sure enough, Francis was passed out with the bottle of liquor labeled ‘Mount Gay’. As soon as Alfred had got into the room he was laughing, and Arthur was taking pictures with his cell phone knowing that a Francis with zero pants on and a bed sheet draped over him, holding a bottle of liquor was a once in a lifetime picture. 

Each took a piece of what Alfred and Arthur had gotten at the store and put it on Francis, Gilbert volunteered to lacy bra on Francis, as Matthew clipped the garter belts to where Francis panties were suppose to be but nobody wanted to get that close to Francis’ genitals, so they just shoved the pants over his knees. 

Throughout the time zone of eight o'clock to eleven o’clock they pulled pranks on each person that they could, Arthur and Alfred managed to talk Gilbert out of pranking Ludwig and Feliciano so they moved onto Lovino and Antonio. 

At the front desk, Alfred had talked the clerklady into giving him the key to room sixteen-thirty-two with a terrible reason and a wink. Arthur, at that moment, felt a tinge of jealousy, but rubbed it off as Alfred laughed getting into the elevator that Arthur was holding. 

Alfred opened the door and ushered everyone else inside. This is a room they couldn’t afford to fuck up on like they had with Tino and Berwald. The group of four was starting to notice that the studio must have started putting people in rooms two by two, most likely so they wouldn’t have to use so many floors of the hotel. 

“Hey, Kesesesese, look what I found in Francis' room.” Gilbert laughed hysterically as he pulled his backpack around to the front of himself and walked over to the bed, he slowly brought out a wooden box, and opened it. Inside was a clear and pink sparkly custom made sex toy. Alfred had to walk out of the room so he wouldn’t laugh too hard and wake up Lovino and Antonio. Basically, since nobody wanted to touch the cursed object they just undid some of the covers to reveal that neither one of the engaged had clothing on and were pressed tightly together in a cuddle. So Gilbert just flopped the object between their pillows and they all made a run for it. 

For the next few minutes they were in Gilbert’s room talking and laughing about what everyone would be doing in the morning before getting to the final rehearsal before the show because of their pranks. 

As it started to get late, Arthur and Alfred left the building to find that the streets that they had walked down a few hours ago, that were once bustling with fans and life, were now lonely and covered in light even though the sky was dark. This time, neither hesitated to grab the other’s hand and stroll down the almost dead New York city streets. Though they were never fully deserted because there were always a few people around, though, they were all rushing to get home after a long day at work. 

Alfred started swinging their hands back and forth like a child. Arthur laughed at the playfulness of his boyfriend and leaned closer as they neared the New York penthouse. Alfred gave a small peck to Arthur’s hair line as soon as they reached the door. When they made it up to the main penthouse the few rushed kisses were a little more extreme and needy and both were loving the attention from each other after their eventful night. 

After slipping off shoes and meandering their way into the only bedroom in the penthouse they flopped on the bed, Alfred on Arthur. The British man groaned and reached his arms around Alfred’s waist, letting the younger press light kisses to his neck and face. 

“Whaddya say good luck sex?” Alfred mumbled, sitting up and looking into Arthur’s green eyes. 

“Good luck–what?” Arthur questioned, trying to laugh at Alfred even though he was putting all of his weight on the smaller Englishman. 

“You're always in a better mood after we tango so before the show should be a great time to.” Alfred laughed, sticking his head in the crook of Arthur’s neck and talking into his ear, making Arthur shiver when Alfred’s breath hit his skin. 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Arthur hummed, rolling his eyes, he knew that Alfred could see them as he moved his head again, “However, I am not against it.” Arthur smiled leaning up to press a kiss to Alfred’s waiting lips. 

“You're cute.” Alfred commented, earning an equally cute scowl in return. 

“I am not! Do you want this or don’t you?” Arthur asked as Alfred resumed kissing the sides of Arthur’s face and neck. 

Through the next hour, Alfred teased Arthur by going slower than they usually would’ve. Either way it was enjoyable and it eased the nerves of tomorrow night. Not only the performance of the stage of the stunt that they planned for after the show. 


	18. “Together we could break this trap, we’ll run till be drop, baby we’ll never go back.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inside of the curtain, Alfred sat in a small version of the set in the real studio. Arthur watched from behind the curtain as Alfred looked believably despaired and broken as he spoke the lines he was given perfectly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title From Born to Run By Bruce Springsteen.   
> I love Bruce Lol. The lyrics of this song don't particularly go with this chapter at all, it's sort of just the feeling that the song gives that I associate with this chapter, if that makes any sense at all whatsoever.

**Chapter Eighteen: Broadway**

Arthur rolled over to find that Alfred was already facing him and had an arm holding him at the curve of his torso to his hip. Alfred nuzzled his head into Arthur’s shoulder and scooped him up so that the smaller of the two was completely wrapped in Alfred’s arms. 

“I got a text from Gil this morning.” Alfred started, talking into Arthur's ear in a hushed tone as if he was afraid to wake up the rest of the city below their window. 

“Mmm?” Acknowledged by Arthur, Alfred took the time to then explain what Gilbert had exactly texted. 

“He said that Lovino was furious and Toni was laughing and carrying it around the hall so Francis couldn’t find it. Apparently, he was running around in his new outfit while screaming that he ‘lost something important’ and then continued to describe it.” Alfred told word for word. Even though Arthur’s eyes were still sleepily closed he was laughing, eventually opening his green eyes. Alfred seemed to be basking in the glorious sound of Arthur’s giggling, when he eventually stopped, Alfred kissed him. 

“You ready?” Alfred asked, after breaking apart. 

“Nervous.” Arthur mumbled, setting his head under Alfred’s chin, clearly not fully awake yet. 

“That’s normal, Artie.” Alfred assured, running his hands down Arthur’s back. 

“Shouldn’t we be getting up now?” Arthur popped his chin up so it was level with Alfred’s. 

“Nah, I just wanna lay here forever.” Alfred decided, closing his own blue eyes again. 

“Alfred, love, as much as I would love to do that the sun is already up.” Arthur pointed out, twisting his torso in a flexible, strange way, and then turning back to Alfred. Arthur realised that the nearest clock was Alfred’s phone on his side of the bed and out of Arthur’s reach. Arthur ended up putting one leg on one side of Alfred and flipping their positions so he could grab Alfred’s phone and check the time. 

“Bloody hell. It’s already noon.” Arthur screeched, seeing the time that was on the top of Alfred’s phone. He moved his undressed body to the floor, getting his bearings and ignoring the familiar pain in his hips. 

Alfred looked at the time himself after Arthur put down his phone again, just to make sure that the hurrying Brit was correct. He heard the water in the bathroom, just off the bedroom, turn on and decided that it would just be better if they saved time and water. He busted into the bathroom and opened the fogged up shower, joining Arthur, who just rolled his eyes and poured some extra bubbly pink shampoo on Alfred’s head. 

**_____**

“Nice of you to show up.” Marc said sarcastically. 

“The traffic was awful.” Arthur reasoned. 

“Just because you too are the stars of this production doesn’t mean you can be late every other day.” Marc continued, and followed Alfred and Arthur out of the dressing room again and to the stage where everyone was in regular clothing so the costumes would be ruined or have to be re-ironed for later that night. 

The rest of the cast was already on stage twiddling their thumbs, having already waited two hours. 

“This won’t take long, but we are going to do a half rehearsal and then we will prepare for the show.” Marc announced, turning his attention to the rest of the group instead of just the last two. 

The last rehearsal started soon after that. 

And not too long after that, close to the time of four, is when everyone gradually started to get nervous. The show wouldn’t start until around seven leaving about two hours before anyone started running around like chickens with their heads cut off or actually getting on costumes. 

Currently, Arthur sat sideways in the director's chair in his and Alfred’s temporary dressing room scrolling through his mostly unused cell phone. What was the point when everything interesting was above the screen? However, the cast was in a period of waiting and wondering when the fun would begin. The scare with the picture last night had convinced Arthur to look on the internet and find more about it and what kind the shitty news articles and gossip websites were saying about it. Arthur himself even thought he had gone mad, considering it was one the the number one rules in show business, to never look up things about yourself on the internet. But everyone did it anyway, so why the hell not?

When Arthur’s eye grew to an inhuman size is when Alfred decided to ask, “Artie, babe, whatcha doing?” 

“I am researching. Also do not call me ‘babe’.” Arthur answered. 

“Aw, but you need nicknames!” 

“I think ‘Artie’ is enough, thank you.” Arthur rolled his eyes that were still intent on looking into the light of his cell phone. 

“Fine. Whaddya ‘researching’? And why did your eyes get so big again all of a sudden?” Alfred asked, walking over to the chair that was holding his Brit with a concerned look. 

“All of these stupid articles!” Arthur looked as if he was about to launch his phone across the heavily mirrored room. 

“In other words, killing your self esteem.” Alfred mumbled, looking over the blonde's shoulder. 

“Honestly,  _ ‘ Actor Arthur Kirkland using actor Alfred F. Jones for money!’ _ , and we can’t forget  _ ‘Arthur Kirkland gets close to Alfred Jones to take his manager.’,  _ and  _ ‘Straight Actor Alfred Jones letting openly gay actor date him for a movie role.’ _ ” Alfred laughed at the last one, as Arthur slouched even more in the chair. Alfred gave a disapproving face and moved around to the front of the chair to carry Arthur to the couch that was placed in the room. 

“Who cares! Let them think what they want and tonight that is all gonna change.” Alfred laid Arthur down sideways on the couch, laying behind him. 

  
Arthur visibly relaxed, “I suppose you're right.” 

“‘Course I am.” Alfred pressed a kiss to the side of Arthur’s face and held the Brit close. Arthur rolled his eyes and snuggled backwards into the American and closed his eyes, allowing himself to get a hint of sleep before the show to get rid of some of the nerves. 

Alfred must have also fallen asleep because there was a loud knock at the door waking Arthur up instead of Alfred, who sure enough was snoring behind him. 

Arthur quickly got up and headed toward the door leaving the blanket that Alfred had set over the two to fall away a slight bit. 

“This is the sixty minute warning, you and Mr. Jones have an hour to get into costumes and makeup.” An assistant said loudly, making Arthur cringe, wondering how he had gotten used to Alfred. Arthur simply nodded and shut the door. 

Arthur found his phone and realised that they had slept for most of the two hours. Arthur quickly shook Alfred awake and had told him that he was heading to Anri’s and that they had an hour before call time. 

Anri had fixed him up perfectly for the first scene and Alfred laced up the sparkly corset that was topped off with fishnets and extra little details that would make dancing in the outfit a little easier. Arthur buttoned Alfred’s dress shirt and they quickly made their way out into the backstage area. The auditorium was completely empty except for the booming sound of a multiple microphone check. Behind the stage, however, was a completely different story, everyone was running around crazily, makeup artists were throwing powder and stage makeup on others and actors were standing next to each other rehearsing line after line. 

“Hey dude, can we go out and greet people as they come in?” Alfred asked Marc, who was looking down at a clipboard and taking notes, looking around to make sure that everyone was dressed and ready. 

“No, you need to be fitted for mics and we are going to do a runthrough of the music.” Marc said loudly, as if he was telling not only Alfred but the rest of the hectic groups backstage. Alfred pouted and was about to speak again before Marc continued, “Afterwards you can though.” Alfred lit up at that. 

Arthur now watched from a balcony above the foyer of the theater, Alfred had joined him a few seconds ago, as they were both curious as to how many people were going to be packed into the three story theater. The room was quite old and gargantuan and everyone was looking anywhere that they could before being shown into the auditorium one at a time. Arthur stared down at everyone else like a king in a throne, everything above was quiet but below there were muffled conversations of people excited for the show and talking about expectations. 

“Hi Mom!” Alfred yelled, breaking the silence, Arthur looked to Alfred in annoyance before looking down and seeing that Alfred’s lovely mother was indeed standing below confused as to where her son had called her from. Allen and Matthew were with her. 

“There you are! Good Luck, Alfie! You too, Arthur!” Amelia called looking up before the bouncers dressed in a dark red escorted her into the big theater. Alfred and Arthur left shortly after that, unaware of a few red and blonde haired people being escorted in the same manner that Amelia had been shown into the theater.

Alfred peeked out into the filling auditorium, spotting his three family members, who were discussing something with each other, smiles on their faces. He had to resist the urge to wave to them or even the rest of the crowd. 

Arthur was to the side of the stage being fitted for a microphone that wasn’t even going to be used until the third scene. Luckily, his voice was amplified by the design of the stage and his normally loud stage voice. They had practised the costume change multiple times and found that they could be done in around thirty seconds give or take. Therefore, for a while at least, his nerves were diminished.

Arthur, when finished, went over to stand near his boyfriend, who was still staring out of the curtain with an excited smile. 

**______**

“At this time it would be appreciated if all cell phones and cameras were shut off.” A random deep voice sounded throughout the theater, there was a short bit of him set aside for people to comply with the request. However, the lights were not entirely dimed yet as Marc walked out from the side of the stage, swaggering in a new suit. 

“Welcome to our one and only showing! I know you all are not here to see me but the actors who have made their way across the country from California. They may or may not be anxiously waiting behind me, Alfred I am looking at you.” Marc started, earning a few cheers and laughs from the audience, “But I have come out here to ask if you could all refrain from clapping if something is cool or interesting, this performance is being professionally filmed for the making of the movie that this show has been based off of. However, this doesn’t apply for our highly practised dances though, please feel free to provide encouragement during those scenes. Enough of me though, let’s get this show on the road!” Marc finished, earning more excited cheers as the lights began to dim and the red curtains began to open.

Inside of the curtain, Alfred sat in a small version of the set in the real studio. Arthur watched from behind the curtain as Alfred looked believably despaired and broken as he spoke the lines he was given perfectly. Arthur was in awe again, being on set was one thing, but when Alfred knew that he was being watched his performance was made a hundred and fifty times more believable. There was a gasp from the audience as Alfred spoke the last airy word, and then the atmosphere changed. The crew working the lights turned the same room brighter and showed a different picture instead of focusing on Alfred. 

Alfred walked around the set waiting for the next light cue to start, signalling that Tino, Antonio, Berwald, and Mathias could start their part. Alfred received a laugh from the audience at the next part, which put a smile on Arthur's face, even when Feliks fell from the ceiling. 

The blonde British man was surprised at how fast the first two scenes passed before he was thrown into the ceiling and watched another group make their way onto the stage.

Francis was head of this group and had the biggest smile on his stupid face as a pair of curtains opened from behind the ones that were already opened. Alfred ran off the side of the stage to make way for the large group. The set was efficiently taken away by invisible sources, as the new larger one was revealed by the opening curtain that Francis and crew had just come from. During this time, Arthur had seen Alfred rush off the stage from where he sat high in his perch wishing he could jump down, without breaking anything, and tell Alfred that everything he did was perfect and smother him in kisses, even though that was more of an Alfred thing to do. 

Once again, Arthur admired the coordination that Antonio had put into making the dances, he admired how the colours of the costumes spun with their intricate dance moves, and the way that Alfred had tried looking for Arthur only to find him curiously in the rafters with a few other people. Alfred quickly waved and hopped back onto stage, figuring that Arthur hadn’t seen it anyway. 

Alfred joined in with the rest of the group dancing and singing the lyrics to the intrustumenals that Roderich and his orchestra were playing. The audience, since they were allowed to clap and cheer, did so. The cast was obviously helped by the simple factor. 

The applause, however, only grew when Arthur was finally lowered. His heart was beating at an alarming pace as he started the first few words of the music before flowing through the rest of the song. As Alfred was supposed to be, he was mesmerized by Arthur’s existence. Arthur, seeing this, in the nature of his own character smirked, and winked, while some of the men and women in the audience whistled and cheered. Which was strange for Arthur, considering all of his praise usually came from one obnoxious American, who was now sitting in his spot, smiling. 

Arthur went through the moves and pranced around the dance floor letting multiple people carry him like he was the king in his throne. They did this until they dumped him on the elevated platform that Frances would be standing on after a few seconds of him talking. Soon enough, the curtain of other people shield Arthur and Frances from the rest of the audience and the dancers on the floor still doing whatever they wanted in the nature of the scene. 

It was strange not having a camera filming them from during the main scenes. This part, however, had a camera in the curtain of people so that the audience could still see them and they could talk over a portion of the script. There was a heap of laughter from outside the wall of people as Arthur and Francis talked over their memorised lines. The laughter, almost certainly, came about because of Arthur and Francis being the worst people to talk to each other without Francis getting sexual and Arthur wanting to kill the Frenchman. Somehow they finished and Arthur popped out of the curtain and continued with the rest of the song, earning more applause and encouragement. 

This was also the first time that Alfred’s mother was notified of the parts that Alfred and Arthur played together, everyone sitting in the theater was aware that the show had a rating of thirteen plus, but Arthur could still see some younger children in the crowd and almost felt bad for some of the things that would happen a little later in the show. 

A different piece of music that was sang by another person started playing as Arthur’s role made him take Alfred’s hand and pull him out in the middle of everybody, including Ludwig and Feliciano, who were doing fabulously with smiles on their faces and going through the complicated moves like it was something they did everyday. 

Alfred had the dumbest smile on his face, as Arthur spoke his lines almost causing him to laugh. Alfred stuttered through his own like he was supposed to. Behind them the sounds of their voices echoed through the theater and more laughter and applause played through as Alfred did the dip and the lifts, overall they were having a fantastic time on the stage and everyone else was entertained. 

The scene after that changed and all dancers and their partners held the others' hands and were brought to the side of the stage to change once again. On stage, currently, was Gilbert talking to another person that served at his guard, as everyone backstage very publically changed their clothing together, it was just like that in stage bis though. They had a few seconds before they had to go back on stage and during those few seconds Alfred tied up the corset as Anri panically, hurriedly, covered anything that rubbed off during the costume switch. 

The cue came when Gilbert spoke the last words making the audience laugh and cleared off the stage, and the people dressed in all blacked moved the props into place. Alfred was already standing on the fairly huge set that had to be rebuilt on set to get it across the U.S. The piece had to be manually pushed around, but it still served its purpose of creating a whole new place that looked exactly like the set at home, just slightly smaller than the original. 

Arthur dressed in all black and lace, still regretting the fact that there were younger children in the audience as he strutted through the door of the set, making Alfred either intimidated or wanting to make him drool, either way he had the strangest look tattooed to his face. 

Even though it was tricky for the sound editors of films to edit out background noise, it was still possible as there were bound to be whistles and roars from people like Gilbert and Francis in the crowd, as well as clapping as Arthur launched Alfred back onto the bed in the set. Arthur went through the scene most regrettingly, but forgot about that when Alfred had started singing his part. Gilbert soon came into the scene, following him were Antonio, Francis, Tino, Berwald, and Mathias. From the side of the stage Lukas was rolling his eyes with a smile on his face. 

Arthur was especially nervous at the scene after that one though, it was the first scene that he and Alfred kissed on stage, sure it was nothing while they were alone, and everyone, including the rest of the cast, knew it was fake and they were acting, but for Arthur it still felt real and for Alfred it felt as if he was letting his happy little mother down. 

Alfred tied down the corset loosely like he had been doing for a few days now for Arthur comfortably and pressed a kiss to the side of his cheek, making the Brit flush red and look around him before hitting Alfred in the arm. The moment ended when Arthur was pulled around backstage to land on the other side of the set, opposite of Alfred. They both walked onto stage at the same time, Alfred was narrating in one half of the set and Arthur stood in the other wearing red. At one point, Alfred was standing on a small little dome built for its one and only debut, while Arthur’s character was laughing and singing, denying everything that Alfred’s character had said. 

The set they were performing on now was also a mini version of what they had in California, that one was a couple stories tall surrounded by an impressive green screen. That wasn’t the case here of course though. 

Arthur and Alfred both had the terrible habit of looking out into the crowd to see that everyone was happy with what they saw, sure enough all eyes were on them, as they sang the part with overwhelming chemistry. 

The song in that part was played by the orchestra who did a stunning job even as the end was drawing near. When music came to his last crescendo, Alfred’s hands were already at Arthur’s sides and hips holding him while they sang the long notes, staring into each other’s eyes.

Once again, the crowd in the rows and rows of seats were curious as to what was going to happen. Arthur’s own hands were stationed on Alfred's biceps, tugging at the fabric as he said the last word’s more quickly than he was supposed to, but he just really wanted to kiss the American, who happily obliged. 

The curtain closed shortly after Tino had sung the final line of the song Alfred and Arthur had just sun. The two were soon escorted off stage after. Following that there was a brief intermission and a ruffle of seats as most people cleared into the foyer for refills of drinks and popcorn. 

  
“Ready to make out on stage?” Alfred teased during the intermission as he and Arthur had time to walk back to the dressing room and get whatever they needed. This included getting into the next scene's costume. 

“How many times must I tell you that you are indecent?” Arthur tugged at the back of the long itchy outfit. 

“Dunno.” Alfred shrugged, stopping to think for a second until Arthur grabbed his collar to pull him into the dressing room that was only a couple steps away. 

“Why don’t we practise, hmm?” Arthur said slowly, Alfred agreed with a rumble in the back of his throat. They fooled around for a few minutes not planning on getting very far before they didn’t have time anymore, they stopped with giddy smiles. Arthur let Alfred peck his lips in between lacing up yet another outfit. 

Everyone in attendance was seated after fifteen minutes and everyone backstage was scrambling to keep everything together as the first curtain reopened. Alfred, despite not being on stage, started narrating, revealing Gilbert and Francis, in a part that they could almost never get right on set and therefore everyone was worried about now. This time they managed. 

The part, however, was aggressive. Not physically, but verbally and made many people in the crowd gasp in surprise. The part was quickly over though and the second curtain opened revealing a bunch of the dancers, including those who were in the third scene, sitting in many chairs listening to Francis, who had done a quick and quiet transition between the two sets as the other was towed away. 

Alfred’s voice was narrating again as that curtain closed and the attention was once again brought back to the front part of the stage. Arthur was then seated in just his loveable robe as the other two, Alfred and Tino, went over more lines while the audience watched with delight. Arthur sat on the couch smiling and laughing at whatever Alfred had said, Tino was scolding them and saying more things, while stood looking exceptionally dorky. Alfred pecked Arthur’s lips when they had gotten in close for a part, that kiss, however, was not in the script and made Arthur panic a bit. But Alfred popped right back up and started talking again. 

It should have been confusing to keep switching from curtain to curtain, but it had worked out surprisingly well, considering that as one set was taken away another could be smoothly and seamlessly brought in, allowing the story to continue from wherever someone sat no matter what part was happening. 

Francis and Gilbert were acting through their lines, as a few people were practising the ending song as part of the script, all while Alfred and Arthur, after yet another quick as hell costume change, stood in a heated make out scene on the top floor of the large set. As called for, Alfred had made an excuse to get Arthur out of the view of Gilbert’s character, who was still on the first floor. 

“Should I pinch you again to make sure that you don’t go overboard again?” Arthur asked quietly, so the microphones wouldn’t pick up on it, while Alfred nipped at his neck. 

“Mmm.” Alfred agreed, still trying to make everything sound believable as Arthur put his hands to Alfred's face to replace Alfred’s working lips on his own. A few seconds later he let Alfred go due to the cue. They said their lines, Arthur gave a charming laugh, not knowing if it was real or fake, and gasp when Francis stood in front of him. 

Francis was scolding him, which usually was opposite in real life, but indeed it happened. The rest of the lights shut off after that, leaving the only spotlight on Arthur as the rest of the set was changed right under his feet. He sang part of a song that was entirely important to the production, without Arthur’s character it would be impossible to figure out no matter how well Arthur did.

Arthur’s heart sped up again as the next part approached, more people dressed in blacked waited below to catch him when he was supposed to fall. Alfred had, somehow, managed to get himself into this league of people. Arthur pretended to pass out and aimed for Alfred’s arms when he fell backwards. Alfred was still telling the story as he caught Arthur swiftly and carried the smaller backstage, where he finished talking. Not even a second later he was hit in the arm by Arthur, who had known that the American was not supposed to be on the stage at the time. 

The set was changed again as Gilbert and Francis showed up to sing the song that everybody had been anticipating for a very long time. The part where they started singing a well known song with the most hysterical twist imaginable, it wasn’t that bad, just horribly uncomfortable to watch and listen too. Francis was still having way too much fun with the numerous background dancers. Meanwhile, Gilbert's lack of talent for singing only made it worse, especially when he looked directly at the crowd and sang. 

Backstage, once again, Elizabeta and Alfred were rolling on the floor laughing their asses off. 

Soon it was done though. 

Somehow the next part was exceedingly sad as Alfred spoke through the loudspeakers again. The next scene started with Arthur in his favourite robe and Alfred in the bedroom set as they went through lines as if it were something they were actually talking about, even though they were getting touchy like the part called for.

The screen that once showed an up close of what Arthur and Francis had been doing during the costume change in the first dance now showed a scene that was minor but important enough to have to make it onto screen while Alfred and Arthur sang the game changing love song. 

But the singing soon came to an end when Lovino started talking to Gilbert, giving the game away with his perfectly scripted lines. The scene began to play out suspensefully, the ending being met with some consequences for both main characters. 

For the last time, there was a brief intermission though it didn’t last as long as before. 

All actors were clothed and the orchestra was prepared as everyone sat down again. Behind the closed curtain Ludwig and Feliciano were trying their best to remember the dance without messing up. The German was exceedingly stressed out under all the pressure and Feliciano was attempting to wave a white flag so that the audience could see it, clearly feeling the stress radiating off of his German counterpart. 

Alfred had somehow seen this and grabbed Arthur, who had seen it as well. Just in the nick of time before the curtain opened Alfred ended up calling to Marc. 

“Put Arthur’s scene on the monitor! There’s been a change in plans.” Alfred called, knowing that their mics were turned off, though he caught it just in time as he knew they would be turned on seconds later. Marc had not been very happy, but with the excuse of ‘whatever his actors needed’, he ordered for the scene that Arthur and Gilbert had done in the studio to be projected on the monitor. As he and Alfred casually stepped on stage Arthur acted as an actual shadow to himself waiting to begin, his outfit had also been changed in a matter of seconds into one of the casual ones. Though unlike the others his was decorated with different, more intricate, details along the sides that mimicked his previous outfit, but was clearly shorter. There was a click of heels on the wooden floor as Arthur finished putting on the rest of the corset thanks to Alfred, who was then thrust into a chair on stage while Arthur stood off to the side waiting.

“Are you sure about this? You and Alfred have never practised this part,” Marc asked, walking up behind Arthur, who was running his hands down the tight outfit and watching intently for everyone to start dancing. 

“I am sure I can manage.” Arthur replied, he heard his own voice on the screen just outside of the actual set. He watched Lovino taunt Alfred, who sat looking nervous and at whatever was going on in the screen above the stage. Something Lovino had said, that Arthur wasn’t paying attention to, had supposedly pissed Alfred off and caused a scuffle between a few people as Antonio joined in for his part. The Spaniard spoke directly to Alfred’s character before moving out into the main floor of the stage that was for dancing. 

The stage had gone absolutely quiet and tension filled, exactly what was supposed to happen. The only sound now was Arthur’s voice in the speaker for the screen near the stage that everyone's eyes were now glued to. That is, until Antonio started speaking, watching with his tappy shoes on the wood floor making a pounding sound. 

Mathias sat in the corner playing one note at a time from the piano, the orchestra played the rest of the instruments, although less than a handful started to play. Eventually those instruments would come together to make the music that would play during Lovino and Antonio’s dance. 

Seeing as they had been trained professionally to do the choreography, it was eye-catching to watch as Antonio skillfully, but seriously, grabbed Lovino, who had a serious look on his face. He expertly started the main backbone of the dance that later everyone would follow. The screen continued to cut in and out scenes from the actual film, as Antonio moved his hands from many different positions to hold Lovino until another number of people made a circle around the two. As practised, Antonio let Lovino go and followed exactly what he needed to do. 

The part that Arthur had thought would always be fun to do was looking more and more daunting and complicated as he watched Lovino do it flawlessly on stage at an alarming pace, while Antonio sang. Nobody else had joined in yet, hence his cue still wasn’t there, he watched Alfred who acted to be in a state of confusion and distress. 

Lovino switched from person to person, including Ludwig, who then passed him off to the next person who lifted him and the rest backed off, leaving Lovino a bit out of breath and staring at his fiance who was still singing.

Alfred had also started singing in this part, Arthur watched in curiosity wondering when he was going to go on, the scene with Gilbert still played on the screen cutting between different edited parts. 

Finally, everyone started moving toward each other as Alfred walked a ways to reach where Arthur was standing and pulled him into the rows of people, still singing his part. Everyone started the exact same way, Ludwig and Feliciano watched intently at Arthur and Alfred, who were going at the pace of everyone else even though Arthur was not supposed to be on stage for this part. 

In a simple waltz position there was a quick drop that Feliciano would’ve missed if it wasn’t for Arthur, who made sure that the nervous, and close to a breaking point, Italian was watching. They held it for a second and then slid back up, the sounds of shoes on the hardwood always a satisfying sound as it was completed. There were more simple things that all had to be in time, regardless of that, Alfred kept singing in Arthur’s ear, though it was still loud enough for the rest of the theater to hear as they kept going with the rest of the dance. There was another quick twist of the non-dominant dancers’ hips as the dominant dancer was then required to lead the other into a spin and a few other things that Ludwig and Feliciano watched Alfred and Arthur do and did it themselves. The tension in Ludwig’s back was obviously loosening and Feliciano’s worried brow was turning back into his signature smile. 

Alfred led Arthur to the floor dipping him and lightly holding onto his wrist to keep him sturdy, he even managed not to struggle to sing the part while holding the majority of Arthur’s weight. But to Alfred, Arthur wasn’t very heavy. Everyone else continued alongside Alfred and Arthur, who were doing it perfectly, much to Marc’s surprise. The screen kept flashing between scenes of Arthur kissing Gilbert, much to Alfred’s dislike, but it was acting so what could he do, besides Arthur obviously wasn’t enjoying it, which happened to be perfectly on-par with his role. 

In the following seconds, the orchestra started to quiet down and everyone else stopped doing anything complicated. They stood next to each other, one person holding the other at the waist staring at one another, until the clips on the screen ended and the attention was focused back on the actors on stage, who started up with the second part of the dance with faster, more technical, movements. 

Ludwig and Feliciano watched as the American and Englishman did exactly what they had done in practise, including the turn sequence and lift. Ludwig followed along precisely, doing the same thing with Feliciano. 

At this point, Alfred was singing still and directing all of his words to Arthur, who was still doing the dance and listening to Alfred sing, until he remembered the reason that Marc hadn’t wanted to do it this way. The clips on screen were just dialogue between Arthur and Gilbert, as Roderich’s orchestra carried the rest of the music. However, as they had planned to do the part on screen live they all knew of the way that the clips would abruptly stop playing any sound, allowing for Arthur to fill in with his own voice, he soon learned that it was something he had to do now too. Lucky for Arthur, he timed it perfectly, to the point where Marc was jumping for joy behind the curtain. 

Finally, words started playing again, leading them into the ending spiral of the dance. Everything was loud, fast, and intense. Usually Arthur would’ve stopped before this part in rehearsal because everything following it was part of a previous sequence, but Alfred had put his head on Arthur’s shoulder and gave it a cheeky kiss besides there was no way to get off the stage so he just went along with it. 

As the dance started to come to a conclusion, the screen started showing one thing and the stage was showing another. The audiences’ eyes were captured by the performance as far as Arthur could see when looked out to the crowd during a spin, though his line of sight was quickly obstructed as he fell straight into a dip. As the music, once again, felt sinister and sad it ended. 

At the end of the dance Gilbert had come and carried Arthur off stage, away from Alfred to create a different sense of the possession. Arthur was carried away kicking and then the scene really ended. The first and second curtain closed and there was a tiny break between the scene as Arthur and Alfred changed along with the set. 

Once that was completed, the curtain opened seconds later, revealing Arthur after everything that had gone down in the last scene. His role was to look stern and worried as the set door to Alfred’s abode had opened and the next scene commenced. During this scene is when Alfred realised that there were only a couple more scenes until curtain call and that everything had happened so quickly. 

Before anyone knew it the audience was clapping again at the beginning of the last singing part. Arthur, one last time, made a dramatic entrance onto the stage enticing the audience to get excited. In one of the previous scenes Alfred and Arthur’s characters hadn’t left off in a very good place and had left the audience in shambles. Some of the more emotional people in the crowd, depending on where they stood on the stage, could be heard crying, which had all been very amusing considering that Alfred had already said the outcome of the show in the beginning, as it was in the script. 

In the current moment they were singing to mend things, which had worked just as it was supposed to. 

Arthur had started singing when Alfred ran out into the crowds of people, a spotlight followed him down the aisle, as well as everyone else's eyes. Alfred has walked down the row with Gilbert sitting on the side waiting for his own moment at the end of the show. Next to him, miraculously, was Alfred’s parents and brother, sitting right next to Gilbert as they both followed him, walking slowly toward the exit of the theater, only stopping when Arthur started singing. He echoed the part that Arthur had just sung like he had done in the actual film production that they had filmed only a day or so ago, then starting making his way toward the stage again. Eventually he was close enough to hold Arthur, and so he did. He wouldn’t have it any other way even though the script had already called for it. 

The finale played out with an anticipated and loveable ending. Until Arthur’s character dies and Alfred starts crying on stage as everyone watches in horror. Some in the audience even gave their own tears. The Englishman was tempted to follow through with the movie script instead, but he followed the stage script and let Alfred lower him to the floor as he muttered, choking on sobs, it was emotional and quiet yet still loud enough to the rest of the theater to hear.

“I love you.” Alfred whispered, Arthur almost said it back until he realised that he was supposed to be dead and left it at that. There was still a puff of confetti and streamers before everything ended and the distant sound of cheering and sad, but satisfied, applause. 

And then the curtain closed for real and the show had ended. 

Alfred smiled and watched as Arthur’s eyes popped opened, revealing to Alfred his bright green eyes. Even though Alfred wasn’t really crying, Arthur, still being held like a comfortable rag doll, moved his hands to cup Alfred’s face. He moved the happy and overwhelmed tears off of Alfred’s face, once again resisting the urge to kiss him when the moment where it would all happen was so close. 

“Prepare for curtain call!” Marc yelled so loudly that Arthur was sure that the people on the other side of the curtain could hear it through their own roar of clapping and whistles, “Alfred and Arthur front and center!” 

Alfred picked Arthur up from the floor giving him a squeeze before holding his hand and lining up to other people, who were ready for the heavy red curtain to be pulled up. A wave of adrenaline went through the two blondes that held each other’s hand as well as Gilbert and Francis’ on either side of them. They let the curtain be pulled apart before taking a bow or two in unison with everyone else in the production. All at once everyone’s hands pulled apart from each other and Alfred wrapped an arm around Arthur’s waist, other people did different things as the audience applauded but this moment was the only time that could work for their little surprise. 

“Are you sure?” Alfred asked in a very hushed tone. 

  
“Of course, you git!” Arthur exclaimed, allowing Alfred to tighten the hold on his waist and hold him in a way they both still faced forward and were close enough, “You might want to do it quickly before curtain call is–” 

Alfred cut off Arthur’s shushed words with a chaste, but meaningful, kiss to the lips in front of over a thousand people. The adrenaline and fear were still stirring inside Arthur, but he paid no mind to it as he smiled at the impulsiveness and charm of the American and set his nimble hand on the back of Alfred’s head minimally paying with Alfred’s blonde hair. 

Alfred had thought that the amount of people clapping and cheering had gotten louder by the time he had pulled away and watched the curtain close before him one last time. 

Only seconds afterwards, Alfred and Arthur were jumped by Feliciano, as the low sound of the soundtrack played outside the curtain and Marc prepared himself to walk onto stage to buy time for the actors to change and possibly greet the people leaving. Feliciano had captured Alfred and Arthur into an uneven neck hug that was fairly uncomfortable for both the American, Briton, and Italian, who insisted on it anyway. 

“Ve~ I knew it would happen!” Feliciano smiled, one of the biggest smiles that Alfred and Arthur had even seen him wear. 

It looked like a few other people wanted to come over and say a few things, all with smiles on their faces before the producer had called for them.    
  


“Get into whichever costume you want, and go meet people in the foyer. I think your mother was screaming, Alfred.” The producer said in a rushed tone, but all in all with a relieved and happy smile on his face.

Alfred grinned happily and tugged Arthur along, still intertwining their fingers. Arthur chuckled as Alfred went onto talking about everything he could do now. 

“–except Mom was screaming, which probably wasn’t a good thing.” Alfred contemplated. 

“Hurry it up already or we’ll never even see her!” Arthur reminded, an amused and rare smile on his face. 

Arthur had chosen the first outfit of the bunch with the sparkles, tights and all. Alfred had chosen the suit to go with it. Down the entire hallway and stairway to the common area was packed with people, even though most hadn’t even made it out of the theater. Alfred wouldn’t stop whispering sweet nothings and pecking Arthur’s head and shoulder. Arthur couldn’t really say that he would ever get tired of it, because he wouldn’f. 

A minute passed before the workers dressed in red let the doors open and let people flood into the large area, everyone had swarmed into groups and lines. Many lining up near Alfred and Arthur, who had already been in good moods and were taking pictures with others and laughing and playing along with whatever people had said to them. The room didn’t look like it would clear out anytime soon as everyone who was free to leave opted for staying and talking with others. Whether they were parents and siblings or friends of the actors, they stayed and talked with their sons, daughters, and friends, as if they were all in a grade school gathering. 

The actors, including Alfred and Arthur, had changed into their favourite costumes and joined everyone else in the room packed full of people. A small group slowly made their way over, including Amelia, who had tears streaming down her face as she pulled Allen through the crowd. 

“Alfie! I am so proud of you.” Amelia screamed, typical of any loving and proud mother. She gave the taller man two kisses on each cheek before moving on to Arthur. 

“And you are my next son in law!” She continued to gloat. Arthur smiled, not knowing what to say to the happy American’s mother, who was also terrifyingly enthusiastic. 

“What did I tell ya?” Alfred asked, still grinning and holding Arthur from behind, earning a squeal from his mother and a laugh from his father. Arthur rolled his eyes knowing that Alfred had been right about Amelia’s plans all along. 

Even after twenty minutes the crowd still hadn’t lessened, it was impossible to find Mathew, who had gone off with Gilbert’s group and left Amelia and Allen to find Alfred and Arthur all by themselves. But something else, besides the dense crowd and the arms wrapped tight around his waist, was making his heart beat as he looked down into the group. If adults were unable to navigate the foyer that was the size of a small ballroom then Arthur would have thought it was impossible for a child to find their way through. However, a small child that had caught his eye was making his way over, running through the crowd of people toward the group of four. 

Arthur tugged himself away from Alfred when he realised who was running toward him. Arthur knelt down, which was difficult in a corset, and grabbed the blonde child who was smiling a broad smile. 

  
“Arthur!” The small boy said, leaping into Arthur’s arms.    
  
“Peter? Dear, what are you doing here?” Arthur asked, stunned, mostly as to how his youngest brother had even gotten to America. He figured that everyone else must have been somewhere else and Peter had escaped them in search of Arthur, he found it was a dumb question to ask a seven year old child. 

“Mummy and Daddy had gotten the tickets and they wanted everyone to come along so we did and I found you first!” Peter giggled as Arthur stood up to his full height picking the small boy up with him. Next to him was Alfred who, along with his parents, were staring curiously at the scene of the two Brit’s in front of them. Arthur shifted Peter onto his hip.

“Is that right?” Arthur asked, talking in his own child-like fashion, earning wide eyes and a smile from Alfred. 

“Wait, Peter? As in your youngest brother, Peter?” Alfred asked, getting the attention of the cute blondes in a conversation next to him. 

“Hm.” Arthur hummed in confirmation, letting Peter reach for the top hat on his head. Amelia and Allen seemed equally as curious and happy as they watched the display. 

“Speaking of Mummy and Daddy, do you happen to know where they are?” Arthur asked, turning his attention back to his young brother. 

“Who’s that, Artie? He’s staring at me and you.” Peter’s childlike expression changed into one of childish fear. 

“That’s Alfred.” Arthur replied looking at Peter, who looked at Alfred in his own curious way over Arthur’s shoulder. 

“Is he the good guy?” Peter asked shyly as Alfred put out his large hand before Peter took it.

“I assure you he is.” Arthur smiled, watching Peter take two of Alfred’s fingers and shake him in an attempted handshake. 

“Are you married to him?” Peter put his small hands on Arthur’s shoulders to lift himself up more and get a better look at Alfred. To the side, Amelia was standing in with a giddy smile as Allen attempted to hold her down.

“Not yet.” Arthur replied quietly, even though it was already hard to hear in the room. 

To the side Amelia muttered, “I wish”, with a dreamy smile, ecstatic that everything was most likely going in her favor. 

“Me too.” Alfred agreed as well, earning an elbow in the gut from Arthur, who held Peter on his hip again. He took off his little top hat so that Peter could keep playing with it. Arthur had only known Peter when he was practically a newborn and left England before just before the blue eyed boy turned two, meaning that Arthur hadn’t seen him for six years, and although the boy was seven he was relatively small, just as most of the Kirkland’s were. Alfred had found everything in that moment endearing and Amelia couldn’t take her eyes off the display. 

“This is the best surprise ever.” Amelia had said to Alfred, who smiled and turned his attention back to Arthur, who was talking to Peter in a voice that he had apparently just made up. 

Moments later Marc had come walking into the room and over to Alfred, Arthur, Peter, and Amelia and Allen.

“I hope I am not interrupting anything.” 

“Course’ not dude.” Alfred replied, inviting him into the strange and choppy conversation that they had all been in. 

“I just wanted to stop by and say my gratitude for an amazing show, other than the switch up during the tango and the stunt you pulled during curtain calls, and where Arthur was supposed to fall into the stagehands arms instead of yours– other than that, amazing.” Arthur listened as Marc ranted unintentionally with a smile on his face. 

“None of that was supposed to happen?” Allen questioned. 

“Not at all. It just so happened that during our third major dance, two important dancers were having major difficulty and Alfred and Arthur stepped in to lead the dance instead so the two could follow, as for everything else it was never cleared with any of the stage directors.” Marc explained, 

“Wow, thanks for ratting us out Marc.” Alfred said sarcastically. 

“I found it enjoyable either way.” Amelia tutted. 

“I think everyone did.” Allen spoke in, turning it into more of a conversation between Marc and Amelia, while Alfred was busy messing with Peter. 

“Hold him.” Arthur stated, quickly handing Peter to Alfred. The young Brit started playing with the decorative flower that was planted on Alfred’s jacket. 

“Uh, why?” Alfred asked, not knowing if he was comfortable with holding a living being that wasn’t Arthur. 

“I think I saw my brother.” Arthur said sternly. 

“Then let him find us instead.” Alfred suggested, holding Peter, who was still holding Arthur’s little hat, and trying to put it on Alfred’s head. Arthur nodded, trying to look through the dense crowd. 

Arthur continued to stare out into the crowd that had happened only minutes after the show had been let out, everyone was making small talk with people they hadn’t seen in awhile or just getting to know another person. Peter had been passed around the circle, mostly because Amelia really wanted to hold him and remember the old times when Matthew and Alfred were small. Arthur listened in the back of his mind and he could tell that Alfred was getting redder and redder by the minute because of his mum spewing different things about his childhood that Arthur hadn’t known before. 

Eventually, Peter was passed back to him and he turned again hoping to catch a glimpse of Alistair's bright red hair. In fact this time, it didn’t take long before he found it, as well as a few blondes coming his way. 

“Mum! Found him!” Arthur groaned, contemplating if he even wanted to see all of them again. When he had left six years ago, he walked out on a fight with his brothers, his mother and father had continuously called and sent letters in hope that Arthur would get him, unfortunately with his old manager in charge of his mail and phone charges, that was virtually impossible. For now, he figured, nothing would be the same as before, everything had been alright with Peter because the boy had been so young with Arthur left and was probably fed good things from his parents and siblings about Arthur’s existence. 

Alfred looked up from letting Peter mess with his flower or large hand and up to where a flock of people were heading their way. Out of these people a few were as Arthur had described them, one was positively Alistair, the oldest and tallest of the entire family, and then there were the twins, Arthur had said that their names were Seamus and Dylan. However, Alfred was having trouble figuring out how Arthur fit in with this group besides for having an English accent. Following the three was a blonde woman, smaller in stature almost like Alfred’s mom but probably smaller compared to Arthur. Finally, there was a red haired male, that Alfred presumed to be Arthur’s father, and most likely the man he would have to impress most. 

“Found the little guys!” One of the twins had said. 

  
“Plural.” The other confirmed, expressing a look of mischief as well as other emotions, one being bewilderment and a hint of joy for whatever reason. Alfred was threatening to leave Arthur alone with his parents and siblings for some catching up time, but Arthur had quickly turned around and held him from leaving, even though in the end it was Amelia who had fixed the situation. 

“Oh! Hello there! Alice, was it? You sat behind us during the show!” Amelia said, zooming past Alfred and Arthur and straight toward the other small women. 

“Why, yes, I do recall that!” Arthur almost turned around at his mother’s accented voice. It had always been so kind and loving, but strict when she needed to be for all the kids. Now, somehow, she had managed to gather everyone from where they were in their lives and bring them to America just to see Arthur, which was extremely surprising to him. Alistair, along with his other two brother’s, were already out of the house, Alistair edging on twenty seven as Arthur’s parents had been highschool sweethearts and married right after getting out of school. Seamus and Dylan were twenty five, leaving the youngest as Arthur and Peter. 

“And you have already met Arthur?” Alice asked, glancing over to Arthur, who was frozen and looking at Alfred. 

“Of course, he and Alfie are together and I must say that I am more than willing to adopt him into the family!” Amelia joked, Alfred just wished that his mom would stop already. 

Arthur still hadn’t turned around, he was hoping that his excuse-filled boyfriend could possibly remove them from the conversation. Luckily, he delivered.

“Hey Mom, Arthur and I are going to finish up a few things backstage and change out of our costumes.”

“Oh, he’s your son?!” Alice asked as she and Amelia then when on and on about something together. 

Arthur and Alfred were just about to leave when Arthur noticed he was still holding Peter, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. 

“Arthur! Forgetting something?” One of the twins asked, Arthur could tell it was Seamus even though he wasn’t looking at them. Arthur never much liked handling and hanging around his other brothers, mostly because they just weren’t nice. 

“Yeah, where are all our hugs and kisses!? And plus, I don’t think Mum and Dad would let ya kidnap Peter.” 

Arthur scoffed, finally turning around toward his family and showing them his face for the first time that night. Arthur noticed that nothing was different other than the fact that his brothers’ immature faces had matured over time, his own was probably exactly the same as when he left, minus the stage make up. But it was like a wave of regret and stupidity when he saw them again, he had missed Peter growing up to strike it rich in California, it worked, but there was a price. He quickly handed Peter to Alistair again, and grabbed Alfred’s hand to pull him away. They went back to the dressing rooms to change, and to give him any other reason to get away from them again. 

“Hey Artie, what’s up? I thought you might’ve wanted to see them again?” Alfred said in a low tone once they were in the room again and after they had left everyone else behind in the lobby. By now, though, a lot of people that had gone to the show were probably clearing out.    
  


Arthur shook his head no and started trying his best to unzip the outfit by himself and failing, “They’ve always been rude and unsupportive.” 

“You never told me why ya left?” Alfred walked over to Arthur, who was struggling to get his first set costume off. 

“I just told you, Alfred.” Arthur talked in a voice that made Alfred believe he was trying to get over something, “How about I explain later? Hmm?” Arthur decided, turning around once Alfred had unlaced and pulled down the outfit. The latter turned around with a genuine smile aimed toward the American and put a light hand on Alfred’s chest to hold himself up while he kicked off the heeled shoes, making himself his normal height that was a few inches short of Alfred. He let his hand linger for a second. 

Alfred nodded, noting that Arthur looked strangely uncomfortable with the subject and for the sake of the cute Brit in front of him he stopped pressing. Alfred pressed another chaste kiss to Arthur’s lips, Arthur pressed back then separated and continued with the removal of the delicate costume, leaving it on the chair for a designer to come collect. 

Arthur had gotten done before Alfred. Arthur was finishing slipping on some random designer sweatshirt, that was too expensive for its own good, on top of a dress shirt, leaving the collar to stick out over the shirt. Arthur would argue that he bought it just because it was comfortable, but it was embled with a small repetitive pattern of bunnies. 

Alfred was a little more sensible but slow, putting on his leather bomber jacket over a long sleeved shirt to keep out of the cool nightly weather of New York. Arthur had even ended up throwing on a black leather jacket over the thick sweatshirt to stay out of the wind. 

“Are you sure you’re good with being around them?” Alfred asked, closing the door to the dressing room and letting Arthur take his hand as they walked down the hall and up some stairs to get back to the lobby. 

“I am sure I will be fine. But it's going to take everything I have not to smash their faces in like Francis.” Arthur sharply breathed. 

Alfred laughed, “I don’t think you want that in the news either.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes, “I just want to prove them wrong.” His voice was distant as if he were remembering something. 

“Whaddya mean?” Alfred was intrigued. 

“I said I would explain later.” Arthur chidded.

“Is now later?” Alfred pressed, though he said he wasn’t going to the temptation was too much. 

Again, there was a loveable and slightly annoyed eye roll from Arthur, “I left because they always said I could never do anything with this, this being acting of course. So I wanted to do something about it, but when I saw them now it didn’t seem like anything changed since I left.” 

Alfred watched as Arthur’s eyes casted down to the moving feet as their shoes tapped on the wooden floor of the twisting halls of the theater. Alfred, at that moment, had a genius all American movie idea of letting Arthur have fun and do whatever he wanted, to show his brothers just how successful he was. 

“How about you do anything you want! That would show ‘em, right?” Alfred proposed, stopping them in the middle of the hallway. 

“Alfred, that’s reckless and dangerous and everything you already do.” Arthur crossed his arms. 

  
“Yeah, ‘cause it’s fun!” 

Arthur smiled, shaking his head, he began walking again allowing Alfred to trail him like a puppy, a very large puppy. 

“Plus, my security team probably already dropped off the Hypersport. We can just drive away from them!” 

“I do happen to like the sound of that.” Arthur laughed, Alfred basking in the sound of it and taking Arthur’s hand again. Their feet led them to the main floor where just about the majority of other people had cleared out, with the exception of both of the American and British man’s families. 

“Ooooh, Alfie!” Amelia wailed once the two were just in the sight of the group, “We all decided on getting dinner somewhere!” 

“That’s cool.” Alfred acknowledged, not liking the fact that the group looking at them had stopped Arthur from laughing. 

“But Alfie, you go into the city more than us so you know some good places, right?” Amelia babled, silently telling Alfred that he and Arthur were coming along whether they wanted to or not. “And the Kirklands aren’t even from around here.” 

“Oh, Yeah! That means I get to choose, right?” Alfred asked loudly. 

“Something sensible, Al.” Arthur chimed in fidgeting with the end of his sweatshirt that was peeking out from under his leather jacket sleeve. 

“So no strip clubs?” Alfred joked, pouting. Arthur rolled his eyes and turned away from Alfred, biting his lip. 

“Absolutely not.” Arthur righted himself and turned back to Alfred with a hint of a smile on his face that only Alfred could see from where they were standing near everyone else. 

Amelia, as well, was shaking her head, whereas Alistair and the twins were laughing along with Alfred. Oliver and Alice, who were now holding sleeping Peter, did not look impressed. 

“Fine, I have just the place.” Alfred spoke enthusiastically, “Just follow us.” 

Alfred walked to the side of Arthur, putting an arm around his waist and leading the rest of the large group to the parking garage just a block away. Unfortunately, there were a load of photographers and paparazzi that hounded each actor as they came out of the building. 

Alfred simply shook them off by telling them that there was going to be a press conference soon, the bunch of annoying photographers eventually eased off and let everyone else through the crowd. In this group of people were Amelia, Allen, Arthur’s parents; Alice and Oliver, his four brothers; Alistair, Seamus, Dylan, and Peter, and Matthew and Gilbert, who had decided to ditch Gilbert and Ludwig’s family for the Jones’, to which Amelia was flattered. 

They kept in a tight group, talking about everything and nothing while Amelia kept ogling over different things in the production and exclaiming over and over that she couldn’t wait to see the actual movie. Once they had gotten to the Valet parking, Alfred found that his car, that only stayed in New York, was already waiting for them at the entrance. 

“You do know that this is a city in America and not England right?” Alfred smirked as he saw Arthur’s three brothers drool over the car that the valet man was holding the door opening to. 

Arthur elbowed him in the side, a little giddy to actually drive the thing, but at the same time a little annoyed at Alfred’s teasing, “I know this isn’t bloody England, you buffoon! I have driven plenty of times, I’ll have you know.” Arthur snapped back slightly amused at it all. Alfred just laughed, calling his new “nickname” hilarious and letting a second valet man open the passenger door for him while Arthur climbed in the American side driver seat. 

Arthur let Alfred reach over to start the roaring vehicle with the car keys that he had gotten from the valet man. He turned it in the ignition, letting it growl for a second before putting it in gear and stopping to wait for a second. Through the rearview mirror he saw Matthew's car, that Gilbert was turning up the music in, and then Alfred’s parent’s car. Finally, there were two rental cars that Arthur’s brothers and parents took. 

With a final rev of the engine they were off, but only after Arthur paused to adjust the seat and pull out of the garage. The traffic was always going to be terrible. That was a fact about the city unless there were rare good days. However, it happened to be worse because people were actually stopping to look at the vehicle they were in. 

“What in the bloody hell are they doing?” Arthur’s voice sounded with a hint of amusement and anger, adding to the fact that he was not looking forward to a dinner with his parents. 

Alfred laughed, “They are taking pictures, it's not everyday you see this baby.” Alfred boasted, tapping the dashboard. 

“You're full of yourself, it’s bloody ridiculous is what it is.” Arthur rolled his eyes, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. 

“Maybe, but I love it.” Alfred said with a dreamy smile that Arthur couldn’t help but adore. Arthur had to believe that it would be anybody's dream to own something like this, and apparently it must have been Alfred’s as well. 

“Since this looks like it won’t stop anytime soon, I recommend you roll up your window, love.” Arthur took a hand off the wheel and motioned to the window. 

“Nah, it’s too hot with you in here.” Alfred grinned, looking back at Arthur with his blue eyes peering over a pair of sunglasses that he didn’t have on before. 

“We haven’t even had dinner yet, Mr. Jones.” Arthur quipped, looking ahead of him. The ongoing traffic started moving again, allowing him to press the pedal on the floor and let the already loud car rumble even more, attracting even more attention. 

“What can I say? I’m just a smooth guy.” Alfred leaned back in his seat putting his hands behind his head. 

“I think all of  _ this _ is getting to your head, dearest.” Arthur motioned with the same hand to all of Alfred, who was leaning back and enjoying life behind his sunglasses. 

Sunglasses that he shouldn’t have even bothered to put on seeing as the Sun had been setting for the past few hours or so already. Though, one could argue that it was still a bright view of the lights of the city all around them. 

“Mind telling me where we are going, Alfred?” Arthur asked once they were driving down the main street of the theater. 

“Sure, take a right up here–” Alfred paused still wearing a mesmerizing smile. He took the sunglasses off of his face and looked out the windshield. He shifted in his seat, letting the seatbelt dig against his neck to look behind him to see if everyone else was still following, “–and drive fast.” 

Alfred then continued to put his hand out the window and give a signal to Matthew, simply telling him that they were going to drive faster and to pass it on. Arthur figured it was twin telepathy, because somehow the Canadian knew exactly what Alfred had just said. Once they were at yet another stop light Matthew did the same to Amelia and Allen, who followed up to the next two cars. 

Soon enough, Alfred let out a giddy screech and, like a knight, ordered Arthur to continue forward as fast as he could go safely and without getting arrested.

Arthur did as ordered and figured that it was; one, to get them there faster and off the busy street, and two; because he was having fun. 


	19. “Keep cool, stay young, I'm just having my fun with the lessons in love...”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The room was lit comfortably and Alfred had started up the fireplace that wasn’t exactly needed in the warming weather, but it was on nonetheless under the television that was playing some random movie. The room was filled with dulled chatter as everyone sat around the space with smiles on their faces, except Arthur who had found Alfred in the corner of the white couch and curled up under his arm in his sweatshirt and jeans that he had put back on for the sake of the company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Lessons in Love By Neon Trees.
> 
> This Chapter is so ridiculously long. While I was copying it and pasting it from the Google Doc, I thought that I had maybe copied two chapters instead, but no, it's just that long.   
> Also, for some reason Google Docs keeps telling me that this chapter doesn't exist, which is fairly strange to me.

**Chapter Nineteen: Dinner and A Show**

Alfred was an idiot. 

Arthur had always known this and yet he still loved the man daringly. Somehow, Alfred had led the oversized group to one of the most expensive restaurants in the entire island of Manhattan. 

Before everyone walked into the building Alfred and managed to pull out a few extra nice clothes from behind the seats of the car and they slipped them on before joining everyone else. It wasn’t magic, however, it was just the compartments behind the seats and Alfred, knowing that sometimes after shows everyone would do dinner. Surely the parents were impressed, but Matthew looked concerned to see if the American could even afford it, to which, of course, Alfred scoffed at and ordered a table for twelve. 

A man in a white tailcoat led the couples and Arthur’s brothers to a large, extravagantly set table with some in chairs along one side and booth-like seats against the wall across from them. Arthur ignored the stares as he was ushered before Alfred into the line of booth seats and looked out into the other people in the restaurant, who were curious to see so many well known movie stars in the place. Alfred pretended not to notice and smiled at every person that was staring at the table and the guests around it. 

Alice and Amelia had already struck up another conversation, this time were determined to get everyone in on it. Alice herself was naturally anxious to actually talk to her son that she hadn’t seen for six years. The evening seemed to go in a particular order, Peter, who had fallen asleep to the low rumble of people in the lobby of the theater, was now springy and awake and bouncing around the seats earning delighted smiles from the adults around the table, to which the little boy couldn’t get enough of. He ended up waddling to the end of the table on the booth side and crawled his way over Alfred to seat himself on Arthur’s lap as everyone ate appetizers that were immediately served to the table. 

“Alfie, dear, you said that this was the only show that would be done, correct?” Amelia asked from where she sat next to Alice on the third seat from the end, across the table from Alfred, Arthur, and now Peter.

“Uh yeah, why?” Alfred confirmed, a bit red when his mother had caught him at the wrong time with a mouth full of rich bread to make Peter laugh. Arthur would have reprimanded him if it wasn’t for the fact that he was laughing too. 

“Well, we were all talking and figured that the studio or whatever would make tons of money if they just continued doing shows.” Allen spoke up. 

“Our producers and director were thinking the same, if I do recall. However, they happen to be focused on the production of the film instead of the performance. That was a last minute detail.” Arthur answered allowing his boyfriend time to chew and swallow the amount of bread that he had shoved in his face. 

“Oh?” Alice asked, earning an even more of a surprised look from Arthur, knowing it was her first words addressed to him since she had been on the continent. 

“They thought that if we kept doing shows that the movie wouldn’t make as much as they wanted it to.” Alfred finished his bread and leaned down to Peter, who was trying to feed him another piece. 

“What about when everything is done?” Oliver asked, his voice being a strange mix between Scottish and British. 

“We have many more films to proceed with.” Arthur started. 

“They would just cast our understudies to play as the roles if there was a Broadway show.” Alfred said, trying to shove the bread in Peter’s face instead. 

“That’s a shame, could you do it if you wanted to?” Allen leaned forward on the table and grabbed his beverage. 

“Yeah, but Kiku already has auditions for me and Arthur setup once this one is a wrap.” Alfred answered, leaning his elbows on the table, Peter did the same although he was sitting on Arthur’s lap. 

“Arthur and I, not me. Elbows off the table.” Arthur scolded, but Alfred complied. 

“Yes sir.” Alfred agreed, making Amelia laugh along with Arthur’s brothers that he had completely forgotten were there. 

“But what other things would you do instead?” Allen followed up, taking his own elbows off the table, “And who’s Kiku?” 

“Arthur’s and my manager. Plus, I dunno what he had planned, but it seems interesting, a lot of studios are looking to cast us both again.” Alfred recalled from a recent message from Kiku and a brief run in at the theater. Kiku had stayed in New York for the weekend to finish a few things with the financing on the Condo and the profit of the show. Alfred was deciding to give Kiku a day off some time because, boy, did the hard working Japanese man need it. 

“Yours too, Arthur? Whatever happened to that one guy? Ah, what was his name?” Arthur stiffened as Alice spoke in her lovely british accent. 

“Nevermind that. I’d rather not explain.” Arthur breathed and watched as Amelia also went a shade paler than her own natural skin tone. Arthur felt Alfred grab his hand under the table as Peter played with the buttons of the dress shirt that Arthur had redressed in, keeping the blazer off. 

“When did that occur?” Arthur was still unnerved by the eyes on him and the chatter all around him, he pressed his hand more firmly to Alfred’s and prepared for an answer.

“You had had him since you left, correct?” Oliver chimed in. Arthur nodded. 

“Complications.” Alfred briefly summarized, glad that there had been a distraction toward the tense conversation that had started a few minutes ago. 

The food had arrived and for a moment the two had gotten off the hook. Peter scrambled back to his place next to the side of Alfred and started doing exactly what Alfred did. 

“Where were we? Oh, yes! Do you know what roles the different ‘studios’ would want you two to play?” Amelia inquired after glaring at the supper for a good minute, just aweing at it. 

“No idea, something similar or completely different. We can only guess.” Alfred mumbled as he was distracted by his food and a British mini me sitting next to him. Peter was sitting in a booster seat doing whatever Alfred did, Arthur had found it charming as did his parents. 

“How’s the wife, Seamus?” Oliver started a side conversation with his second eldest son. Arthur had tuned it out and opted for looking over at Alfred and Peter, who were in the middle of seeing who could get more pasta sauce on their faces. Arthur would say it was a tie. 

They had gotten through three of the five meals, and were on drinks before dessert, when there was a disturbance within the already awkward atmosphere. 

“Ah, mon ami, you have impeccable taste.” Arthur's head snapped up from where he was playing peek-a-boo with Peter under the table with the tablecloth, as Peter was sitting under the table giggling. 

“Why in the bloody hell are you here?” Arthur just couldn’t stop himself as another group of people joined the table directly next to theirs. 

“Ah, Devriez-vous être plus gentil avec moi lorsque vous êtes autour de la famille, Angleterre?” Francis said, taking the seat directly across from Alfred on the bench. 

“Non, Va te faire foutre.” Arthur replied, focusing back on Peter instead and ignoring the rest of the French inquiries as Alfred was already in a conversation with Gilbert, Matthew, and Allen, leaving Arthur to fend for himself. 

“A friend of Arthur’s, I presume.” Alice questioned, noticing the display from the other end of the table. 

“Indeed. I think it is quite funny you don’t remember me from Arthur’s childhood, he was a wee one, wasn’t he?” Francis embarked, scooching in close to Arthur and leaving the second table full of the party people to talk without him. 

“Oh, yes! Francis, I remember. Lovely to see you again!” Alice said from across the table, sparking interest in a few other people around the table. Including Alfred, who had taken a trip around the table to talk to Matthew and Gilbert better.

“Ravi de vous voir aussi, du sucre.” Francis said swifty, remembering how the blonde lady had always loved the French dialect, making Arthur want to stab himself whenever she would pry him into speaking it more when he was required to learn it in primary school. 

Alfred quickly ended his conversation and skipped over to his seat next to Arthur that had been taken by the Frenchman.

“What up, Franny?” Alfred asked, giving the cue for Francis to scoot over so he could be next to Arthur. 

“Why don’t you get up now, Peter?” Arthur asked once Alfred had slid back into his seat and lowkey put an arm on the top of the booth seat behind Arthur, who was trying to lift Peter from under the table. 

“But the French guy smells like cheese.” Peter whined. At that point, Arthur lost it and burst out laughing, making Alfred laugh, until Peter had thought that he had done something wrong. 

Francis just looked a bit devilish and sadden but at the same time took delighted sips of his red wine. 

“I do think that I have overstayed my welcome, but I can tell you that everyone over here had questions for you.” Francis concluded, aiming the last part toward the two blonde men. Arthur still had tears coming from his eyes because he had been laughing so hard at something that shouldn't have been so funny. 

For the next hour the two groups continued on like they would normally and minded their own business. Occasionally Alfred or Gilbert popped in to say something, and the parents talked about how they should all meet and talk about everything together like friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while. 

As the last course was served, Peter and Alfred were all over it once again, Arthur rolled his eyes and dabbed each boy's face with the white napkins. 

Soon after the check was delivered. 

“I say we split it into parts.” Allen said, reaching for it and finally looking at it with his eyes bulging out of his head. 

“Why don’t we just take it?” Alfred offered, reaching across the table to look at it, not even batting an eye at the price, “Do you think Kiku would link our bank accounts?” 

“Alfred, we are not married just under the same manager. We are not going to share a bank account.” Arthur explained, earning a confused look from Alfred, “I do suppose he could though, more to share.” He considered. 

“We should let him.” Alfred decided, allowing Arthur to take the check and scribble down his name as well. 

“That’s far too much.” Alice said with a look of concern. 

“Really? I didn’t think it looked too bad at all.” Alfred looked up toward the other blonde lady sitting next to his mother who was finishing off her drink. Alfred narrowed his eyebrows in confusion, glancing at the check again.

“What did I say about things going to your head?” Arthur raised an eyebrow and held Peter closer to him, the young boy had fallen asleep again due to the large meal and the overall excitement of the day. 

“Oh yeah.” Alfred mumbled, throwing the pen down onto the table and standing up from the table. He reached for Arthur’s littlest brother so that the Brit himself could stand up. 

“Listen lady, he has more money than he knows vhat to do vith it, so does Arthur. So just let him do and ve all get a free meal. Kesesesese.” Gilbert laughed. 

“You're a cheapskate, Gil.” Alfred called, earning another characteristic laugh from the Prussian who bounced, full of booze, after the Canadian, who was laughing at Gilbert and leading him to the parking lot so that he wouldn’t fall. 

“Alfie! Arthur! Wait up a second, would you?” Amelia jogged after them with her shorter legs. 

“What’s up?” Alfred answered after being addressed first.

“Why don’t you let everyone go over to your apartment? It surely is big enough.” The older lady asked, trying to keep the night from ending. Alfred looked over to Arthur, who was staring mindlessly at the ground. 

“But we leave the day after tomorrow.” Alfred tried. 

“Exactly, Alfie!” She still didn’t see that Alfred had better things to ‘do’ or just ignored it. They know they do ‘it’ a lot, but that’s just a healthy relationship, and plus ‘it’ was damn good. 

“Arthur’s mom and dad also haven’t seen him in a while.” She continued, drawing Alfred away from his thoughts.

Now Arthur’s head sprung up, confused that his parents had actually wanted to see him after all this time. He supposed that six years had cleared everything up a little and the five were trying to fix their wrong doings, but it was still very awkward and constantly on ice. 

“It’s up to you, love.” Arthur decided, reaching into Alfred’s pocket, swiftly grabbing the keys in a subtle way that made Alfred sweat, he swung his hips all the way back to the car, turning the key in the ignition to make it start up and rev, making some people stop to look. Arthur was hoping that Alfred would say no and they could do whatever they wanted in the safety of the condo. Though, for tonight, all he wanted to do was curl up on the three thousand dollar sofa and eat as much ice cream as there was left in the fridge. 

“Aw, he calls you pet names.” Amelia cooed. 

“Really Mom?” Alfred laughed, finding her fascination funny, since nobody had said anything about them yet after the show. 

“So, what do you say?” Amelia jumped back into the conversation once Alfred had stopped laughing and she snapped out of her daze. 

“Arthur and I were going to do important stuff.” Alfred acted, though it was his job it was unbelievable and hard to lie to his mother. Though he had, in fact, no idea what Arthur had been implying but it sounded great. 

“I used to think the same thing son, then you happened. How about now?” Amelia roasted, Alfred pretended to fan at his eyes and cry. 

Alfred deliberated for a second and then straightened up again, “Fine.” 

Amelia cheered and grabbed Allen’s waiting elbow and walked over to Alice, who was tying Peter in his car seat as Alistair and the twins gathered into the other car. Alfred could almost hear his mother explain the plan to Arthur’s family, who seemed a little on edge but overly happy to go. 

“What did you decide?” Arthur wondered, he was leaning away from the seat to keep his back more comfortable. 

“She’s my mom.” Alfred slumped and groaned, “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” 

“I can make do, Al. I am perfectly capable.” Arthur assured, feeling that it was weird that he was the optimistic one for a change, “Though I was hoping for something else.” He said in a deeper tone, that sounded ravishing, he leaned over to touch his finger tip to the top of Alfred’s nose.

“Fuck.” Alfred swore. Arthur grinned, satisfied with his work. 

“Wait until later.” Arthur left him hanging, backing out of the parking space, making sure that everyone else was behind him before he took off down the road, going fast just like Alfred liked, and following the mapped guide in his head. 

The whole ride was a bit annoying, but pleasing at the same time. During every stop Alfred had made it his mission to reach over the console in the middle of the car and place teasing kisses to the side of Arthur’s face, and if he was lucky, the Brit’s pink lips. 

They were faster than everyone else, one because of Alfred’s precious car, and secondly because Arthur had panicked in the middle of the journey remembering that they had left the room a mess from the night before. It gave them just enough time for the valet at Alfred’s apartment to take the car and scurry up into the house to clean whatever garments they had left on the floor during last night’s, not as wild, hustle. 

Just as Arthur had closed the last drawer, the elevator bell had rung and in came the entourage. 

Just as Peter had done the first time, he came waddling over to Arthur and Alfred, who stood near the closed bedroom door as everyone else oohed and awed as they set eyes on the recently cleaned penthouse. 

“You live here, Artie?” Peter asked, sounding tired and boyish. 

“Sometimes.” Arthur looked to Alfred, who was nodding, happy that Arthur was ‘living’ with him. 

“Wowie!” Peter exclaimed and squirmed so that Arthur would let him down. As soon as Arthur set the boy down he went exploring around the large area of Alfred’s apartment. 

“Damn, why couldn’t you two be that cute?” Allen made a face, watching as Peter roamed around looking at everything he could reach. 

“I am standing right here.” Alfred fake cried, even though his mom and dad roasted their sons all the time. Alfred shook it off and ushered everyone else inside. 

“I’ll get drinks. Anything specific?” Amelia asked, making her way to the luxurious kitchen and opening the less than filled fridge, “Al–” Amelia started, noticing it was mostly empty. 

“I know, I’ll have one of the butlers go and get something.” Alfred reached for his cell phone on the counter, eyeing back to the people who were gathered in his living room. 

“You brought butlers?” Arthur asked, stationing himself next to Alfred and putting his hands on the counter. 

“No, they live here full time but don’t work for me all the time. You haven’t owned more than one house have you?” Alfred explained, curious about something he didn’t already know of the little spicy Brit. 

“I’ll have you know that I have, but it wasn’t mine to maintain.” Arthur folded his arms and looked up at the American. Who looked ready to talk before he was interrupted. 

“Hey Arthur, what’s it like doing drag?” Alfred couldn’t tell which twin it was but their hushed conversation was cut short as Arthur put on a scowl and kept his arms crossed, walking the length of the room and scolding his brother. 

“It is not drag, it is a costume, bugger off.” Arthur snapped, breathing heavily. Amelia was almost concerned for his lungs and rib cage because he was breathing so heavily. 

“Be nice to your brother.” Alice scolded, hitting the oldest in the arm. 

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, the scowl still there, until he saw Alfred. The lines in his face smoothed out as soon as Alfred winked at him.

“Whaddya want, Arthur?” Alfred used his actual name instead of the beloved nicknames for audience purposes. 

“Something strong.” He replied, opening the door to the bedroom and putting himself inside, locking the door. Alfred figured that he was going to change into something more comfortable than a suit he had thrown on while sitting in a car. Alfred shrugged and rolled up the sleeve on his own white dress shirt, making sure they reached his elbows. Soon there was a ring from the elevator and another man dressed in a suit came in with a few fabric bags containing the much needed beverages. 

Alfred was sure that Arthur had an alcohol radar for when he needed it, because as soon as the butler put the drinks onto the table Arthur was out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him, and digging out cups from the cupboards, pouring himself some first. 

The room was lit comfortably and Alfred had started up the fireplace that wasn’t exactly needed in the warming weather, but it was on nonetheless under the television that was playing some random movie. The room was filled with dulled chatter as everyone sat around the space with smiles on their faces, except Arthur who had found Alfred in the corner of the white couch and curled up under his arm in his sweatshirt and jeans that he had put back on for the sake of the company. Arthur was given ice cream because Alfred had been kind enough to tell the butler that he did, in fact, want some.

Everyone held drinks in their hands except Peter, of course, who wanted to do what Alfred was doing and found himself cosily curled up in between Alfred and Arthur, fast asleep. 

“I think he should have more people his age around him, instead of all these adults.” Alice had said. 

“He doesn’t have school mates?” Arthur questioned. For the second time that night, he joined in on a conversation with his mum. 

“He is like you Arthur, and doesn’t make friends easily.” She said lightly. 

“Guessing that hasn’t changed!” Dylan teased, earning a laugh from Seamus and Alistair. 

“I swear to God I will kick your arses.” Arthur threatened in a tone that was quite terrifying for someone as tired as he was. As a result, they backed off a bit, “I’ll have you know that I have many friends.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Seamus taunted like a five year old. Alfred laughed, finding that he and Matthew had always fought a similar way. He took out his cell phone in hopes of helping Arthur’s case and found the pictures of everyone. Arthur and himself at Yao’s club and then again on stage in the few pictures that a photographer had taken for promotions. He passed the phone to the side of him, making Arthur turn red, having not expected Alfred to actually do anything. The three older brothers were laughing and Amelia couldn’t wait to get her hands on the photos. They were all hilarious and lovely pictures so they enticed an endearing laugh from those looking at them. 

“Very well.” Alistair resigned. 

“Enough of that! When did you get together?” Amelia asked as if she was trying to acquire the information all night after the show. 

And here were ‘those’ questions. Arthur was not excited and opted for poking at the chocolate brownie ice cream and not answering questions. 

“Just after we came to New York a few weeks ago.” Alfred explained, earning a confused look from both of Arthur’s parents. 

“Together?” Oliver leaned back in his seat. 

“Do you have a problem with it?” Arthur asked simply, digging at the ice cream and not making eye contact with his father. 

“No. We just didn’t think you would follow through with that.” He nodded, Arthur raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s a feeling, not just something I decided one day.” Arthur said sternly, and decided to turn his attention back to the tv so someone else's distance conversation could bleed through instead. 

Alfred adjusted his arm from on top of the couch to around Arthur’s shoulders, being as cautious as he could without raising suspicion. 

“Do you have the football channel here in America?” Dylan had asked, starting a new conversation. 

“Uh, sure.” Alfred stuttered, leaning over to grab the remote control from the side table, and turning to a channel. 

Arthur rolled his eyes, grabbing the remote from Alfred, “Give me that. It’s not American football, he’s European, he means bloody Soccer, you blasted idiot.” Arthur fought the urge to laugh at the language barrier, Amelia did that for him, however. 

The silence was gone afterwards and all conversations were back on. 

“Where have you gone since leaving England and doing this?” Alice asked, aiming the question right at Arthur over the sound of his brother’s cheering at the telly. 

“For films?” Arthur wondered, “Or in general?” Sensing that it was the first option, a nod from his mother confirmed it. He allowed Alfred to take his pint of ice cream and eat some of the brownie chunks. 

He looked away from the ice cream and to his mother, “Many places. I’ve been very lucky to have gone to the places that films have taken me. I was even in the desert once, though that

was still in America, of course. But there's been a few other places like Japan, Spain, Australia, France, and Italy.” Arthur remembered off the top of his head, stopping for a second to actually think about where filming movies had taken him. 

“And you live in California, yes?” Oliver asked, Arthur was almost scared to know where this conversation was going. Arthur nodded, snatching his ice cream back from Alfred before the American ate all of his brownie pieces. 

“What about you Alfred?” Alfred turned with chocolate on his face toward the question that was directed to him from Arthur’s parents. 

“Uh, about the same, but I go to Canada a lot for Mattie and I’ve been to Russia. Though, I am pretty sure if I stayed any longer I would have lost my toes it's so cold.” Alfred shivered remembering the place. Arthur then took a napkin from off the coffee table and dabbed the chocolate off his messy boyfriend’s face. 

“I was also curious about the costumes you wore tonight?” Alice seemed interested as to the things she had seen Arthur wearing on stage. 

“They went along with the period that the film and play were set in, which was around the turn of the century.” Arthur explained. 

“I didn’t even know it was possible for a male to wear a corset.” Dylan grumbled, Arthur rolled his eyes saying something that was lost to the TV. 

Alistair, Seamus, and Dylan then started loudly cheering as their football team had scored a net. 

“Change the channel, would you?” Arthur asked Alfred, who looked bored with the program. The American happily complied and put it back on the movie that was on before. There was a sad ‘aw’ from the three, but a relieved sigh from Alice and Oliver. 

“Were you planning on going home again after this weekend?” Amelia asked, getting the attention off the screen. 

“The boys are heading home. They have jobs and relationships to attend too.” Alice answered in her sweet accent, “We had originally planned to tour some of the cities here, but neither one of the boys could take Peter until we got back.”

“Why can’t Arthur take him?” Seamus volunteered, biting on some crisps that Alfred’s butler had gotten from his trip to the store.

“I’m sure he has plenty he has to do in California.” Oliver assumed. 

“Indeed I do.” Arthur confirmed without looking up from his snack, feeding some to Alfred. 

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to do it.” Dylan convicted. 

“Look who’s talking.” Arthur snapped, “I have to film from eight in the morning to sometimes later than ten, and then it takes an hour to get into the hills again.” Sometimes he just liked proving his brothers and a few other people, such as Francis, wrong every now and then. It was almost like a game that he played with the bunch. 

“That’s a long time, when do you even sleep?” Dylan asked similarly to how a child might, even though the only child in the room was asleep resting his head on Arthur, “ I still don’t see why you couldn’t take him?” 

“It would be like having a kid for a few days, plus those Papar–whatevers would love it, right?” Seamus added, making Arthur’s eyebrows raise in disbelief. 

“Did you wankers not hear a word I just said?” 

“Language Arthur.” Alice called from the kitchen where she, Oliver, Amelia, and Allen were washing dishes and tidying the space. Arthur rolled his eyes. 

Alfred looked toward Arthur and the kitchen where the parents were, “You guys don’t haveta do that, ya know? It’s why we have maids and butlers.” Alfred reminded, earning a look of amazement from the three brothers and Alice and Oliver. 

“Jesus Christ, what do you make in a year?” Alistair asked. 

“Too much.” Arthur mumbled, signally to Alfred to stop saying things like that. 

Amelia and Allen figured Alfred was right and sat themselves down again on the ‘L’ couch again. Alice and Oliver followed soon after. 

“What cities were you planning on going to?” Alfred asked, putting the remote on the end table and shifted to get more comfortable with a seven year old and a twenty three year old on him in various positions. Both didn’t look even remotely comfortable. 

“The big ones, like the one we are in now and uh, the one by those lakes, and where you live in California, or the Nevada one.” Oliver had managed to summarize.

“New York, Chicago, Las Vegas, and LA?” Alfred asked to confirm.

“Yes! That’s it, right dear?” Oliver seemed excited, Alice nodded. 

Alfred finally made the choice to sit up, disturbing the peace of Peter and Arthur, who had been listening in on the conversation. 

“Hey Artie, I think we should.” Alfred said quietly, directing it toward Arthur. 

“Should what?” Arthur lifted his head when Alfred moved and looked between Alfred and his parents. 

“Take Peter for a few weeks!” Alfred exclaimed, surprising all of the Scot’s and Brit’s in the room. 

“You’d do that?” Alice exasperated, grinning. 

“Alfred, he’s a child! I haven’t taken care of a child in my entire life, and neither have you.” Arthur doubted. But after not being there for Peter for most of his life as a big brother, he almost felt like he had to. 

“But you live with me.” Alfred reasoned against himself, Arthur laughed, others joining in on the remark. 

“At least you can drive and take care of yourself, he cannot do that.” Arthur motioned to the sleeping child. 

“So? I can have my security crew, and maids watch him while we are at the studio and then we can look after him when we get back.” Alfred planned. 

Arthur’s mouth gaped open like a fish. 

Somehow Alfred had thought of almost everything, he even knew that some of the maids had children of their own and knew how to take care of them. 

“It’s not like you don’t have the money.” Alistair mumbled under his breath. 

“Would you ever so kindly stop that?” Arthur snapped at the oldest. Whom of which backed off immediately. Arthur looked towards his parents, who had hopeful looks on their faces. He could even remember them talking about a trip like this when he was a young boy. 

“I suppose.” he reluctantly agreed. 

“Here’s how it will go, you dudes can tour wherever you want and when you get to California we can give ya Peter and you can head back to England.” Alfred concluded. 

Arthur’s parents nodded in delighted agreement, then started telling the couple everything they needed to know about taking care of Peter. 

“Peter also has lessons on the internet that he takes.” Oliver added, Arthur nodded and yawned, seeing that the large window was completely dark but lit up due to the lights of the city below and around them. 

In the next few minutes everyone wrapped up their conversations and was getting up to leave. Arthur went back into the bedroom and dressed into night clothes before opening the door and finding Peter running toward him and hugging his legs that were bare but had shorts on underneath a large white dress shirt. 

“Am I really gonna stay with you and Alfred?” Peter asked, looking up at Arthur, who was sure that everyone had already left. 

“Yes. Are you excited?” Arthur employed his child friendly tone, trying to remain un-cranky to the young boy who had just heard exciting news, despite how exhausted he was. 

Peter nodded and Arthur patted him on the head, sending off to his parents again. The two blondes watched the elevator close and ding as it went down from the floor. 

“What in the bloody hell were you thinking?!” Arthur snapped, once he knew the door had closed and they were alone in the room together. Alfred looked a bit scared and on the spot, like a child that didn’t know he did something wrong. 

Arthur shook his head exasperated, “First, I find out that _ you _ were the one who told the producer to send invitations to _ them  _ and then you let  _ my _ parent’s dump  _ their _ child on us so that we have to take care of him for a month while they tour the states. You are completely irrational, Alfred Jones.” Arthur accused, crossing his arms and looking the blue eyed man straight in the face. 

“I thought that it would be what you wanted, Artie!” Alfred shot back, next came an eye roll from Arthur. 

“There was a reason I left in the first place and a reason I never wanted to see them again, that seems unlikely now.” Arthur complained, casting his eyes downwards as to think more. 

“How was I supposed to know that?! You don’t say anything, I had to find out for myself that your manager was an abusing dickhole and even then it took some time to find out that your body was completely torn up, and then you never told me about the parental situation so I thought that you just left them and didn’t want to go back, not that something bad happened!” Alfred countered, hating to yell at the Brit, who had bit his lip and now looked right at Alfred, considering what he had said. 

Arthur opened his mouth to speak and closed it, so he looked like a gaping fish, he furrowed his eyebrows, “I would’ve liked a notice and not just for Peter to have made their appearance known! I do think that was the least you could have done, you git!” 

“Yeah, I could’ve done that, but it would’ve ruined the surprise. How was I supposed to know you didn’t want ‘em here?” Alfred asked again. 

“You wouldn’t have known.” Arthur said softly, he paused thinking through his next words, looking anywhere but Alfred, “They had always been quite opinionated, if you must know. And certainly not gentle or supportive, nothing like Amelia.” Arthur shook his head, remembering the last time he had spoken to his parents and the first time he spoke to Amelia. There had been such a catastrophic difference between the two, so much so that it was almost refreshing when Arthur had met Alfred’s family. 

“Sorry, Arthur.” Alfred admitted like a kicked puppy. 

  
“I apologise as well, I should’ve told you more.” Arthur reasoned with himself. Alfred had been the first person to ever want to open up to. He and Francis had never had this kind of relationship, with him it was always for the sex and parties. While Francis was still and good person, he constantly wanted attention on himself, they ultimately would’ve never lasted. Alfred was different, he and Arthur could have good times and serious talks, and in return Arthur listened to all the nonsense and hilariousness that spilled from the America’s mouth. 

“You don’t have to say anything, I just don’t wanna disappoint ya or make ya uncomfortable.” Alfred waddled over to Arthur, his long arm span out to the side only to close again around Arthur’s torso in a tight and warming hug. Only then did Arthur realise how good he had it and lett tears spill out of his green eyes. 

“I assure you, love, there’s no possible way for you to do that.” Arthur sniffled, tugging at Alfred’s dress shirt, feeling like a child, which nearly made him dreading the next few weeks with Peter. 

“Who told you that I invited them?” Alfred asked, confused, considering he didn’t ever remember being out of the same room as Arthur at any time. 

“I guess you could say that I pieced it together.” Arthur breathed, laughing a bit, “I eventually confronted the producer and he told me. So it wasn’t all a surprise, but I definitely never thought they would show, so that was a shock.” Alfred pouted, vowing to get back at the producer for ruining an already spoiled surprise. 

In the end, Alfred convinced Arthur that taking Peter for a month would not be a bad thing. 

They had re-snuggled on the couch after the fiasco and refilled their cups and ice cream bowls to finish watching the movie that had come on. Alfred had come back from putting on pajamas and Arthur had taken off the shorts that he put on under the long shirt. 

“I think he’s a good kid.” Alfred started, tugging a shirt over his torso, which was a shame really, considering. Arthur’s eyes lingered on the other before he trailed his eyes back to Alfred’s. 

“I don’t doubt it.” Arthur weighted, “But you and I both know that he is still young and will do childish things, like you, but not as bad.” Arthur expressed, he moved over from the corner so he could curl up next to Alfred again. 

“So? That means me and the little guy can bond.” Alfred grinned.    
  


“Oh no, will I ever survive?” Arthur said extremely sarcastically, looking up as if to beg for his life. 

Alfred grinned and settled back into the couch, pulling Arthur flush against him, not even bothering to answer the rhetorical question. 

**_____**

The next day was hectic, and the day after that would be worse. 

Alice and Oliver came by with Peter and all of the boy's belongings at eight in the morning. Somehow, Arthur had already been up in time, leaving Alfred to spread out in the bed on his stomach at the mercy of the early morning sunlight. 

Arthur and Alfred still had to run by the theater and get their own costumes that morning. Last time they were taken by the designers, but on the way back it was opposite so that the designer wouldn’t have to carry so many things back. Plus, Alfred had his own plane so it wasn’t a problem taking some people's things back to California with them. 

“Oh, Arthur!” Alice exclaimed, surprised that Arthur was the one to open the door. 

“Hello.” Arthur decided on, casually hoping that they wouldn’t notice his lack of pants, “I hadn’t known that you would be here so early.” 

“We do apologise. Apparently the flights leave earlier than we thought. Thank you for taking him.” Alice said as quickly and normally as possible, as if she wasn’t talking to her son, but an important person like the Queen.

“It’s fine, I assure–” Arthur started off, but was interrupted by Alfred from the bedroom. 

“Who’s at the door, sugar?” Alfred called, rubbing his eyes and slipping his glasses on his face. 

“Don’t call me that and it’s my parents and Peter.” Arthur replied, feeling the word ‘parents’ was a strange way to refer to them as they were standing right behind him. 

“Oh.” Alfred simply acknowledged, he suddenly looked insecure at his lack of a shirt. 

“You weren’t kidding.” Oliver said softly, noting the entire of the two in front of him. 

“Please don’t start, Ol.” Alice urged, not wanting to start over judgment and generation gaps so early in the morning. 

“You're right, we better be going anyway.” Oliver considered, thanking his distant son and turning at the door. He linked his arm with his wife and strutted down the hallway. Peter, who was still sleepy, tugging onto Arthur’s day shirt as Arthur closed the front door and went further into the penthouse. 

“Are you almost bloody done in there? I swear you take longer than anyone I know.” Arthur rolled his eyes. 

“I do not.” Alfred said, opening the door and skipping out in a random pair of smart looking jeans and a dress shirt tucked into it. His eyes widened when he saw Arthur holding his brother with an unamused face, “Hey, little buddy!” 

“Not so loud! It’s eight in the morning.” Arthur scowled, letting Alfred hold Peter while he gathered the keys to Alfred’s car, jingling them. 

“Why can’t I drive?” Alfred whined, waking Peter up in the process. 

Arthur, who didn’t feel like arguing about it, threw the keys to Alfred and allowed Alfred to hand Peter back to him. Initially, after waking, the boy was confused, yet delighted, to see the two blondes. 

The three gathered into Alfred’s car, Arthur watched as Peter stared out the window at the city that was speeding by in flashes, wondering if the boy had also been so quiet or was just being shy. Regardless, Arthur was determined to be a better older brother to Peter than the other three were to him, despite not knowing Peter as well as they might. Alfred was more than thrilled to tag along. 

The theater was only a few blocks away, but Peter was restless by the time they got there and begged to get out of the car. The theater was being cleared out, even though the promotion boards and posters were still up. There were only a few people left in the lobby and theater when they walked in, most were stagehands as well as the producer and director. 

Marc stared at them for a second, confused as to why Arthur was carrying a small child, who was constantly curious about everything around him as he followed Alfred down the hall towards their dressing room. 

Inside the room everything was just as they left it the night before, except for a large rack of costumes that held everyone else's costumes, anyone from Gilbert’s to Lovino’s as well as some of the dancers’. Next to the rack was a note asking them to take them onto the private plane. 

Alfred took one look at the elaborate costumes in plastic covers and knew that there was no way he would be able to get them in his million dollar car. Arthur, on the other hand, was tending to Peter, who was enormously entertained by everything. 

“Is that all of the costumes that you guys wore on the stage!?” Peter’s eyes were wide, clearly wanting to hop up from the couch and touch them before Arthur stopped him. 

“Please don’t touch them Peter, some of those cost millions of dollars.” Arthur reprimanded as gently as he could. 

“Oh, but I want to see all of them again.” Peter frowned. 

“How about we take you to the studio we perform in when we are in California and let you see all of them then?” Arthur compromised, trying to get the smile back onto Peter’s face since it shouldn’t be gone this early into the journey. 

“Yay! I knew you weren’t as bad as Ally and Dylan and Seamus said you were.” Peter beamed, looking up at Arthur, who was standing in front of his brother now, looking down at the young boy. 

“Oh? What does that mean?” Arthur subtly asked, curious as to what the boy meant.

“Mummy and Daddy said you have an important job to do and that is why we never see you, but Ally and Dylan and Sea said that you’re words I am not allowed to say.” Peter repeated. 

“That’s nice.” Arthur sat down next to Peter crossing his legs and arms, allowing Alfred to see what they were dealing with. 

“Al, love, I don’t think you are going to get that into your car.” Arthur raised a large eyebrow. 

“Do I get nicknames now too?” Alfred looked around the side of the rack with a very wide grin on his face. Arthur hadn’t realised that he had shortened Alfred’s name. “And don’t worry, I already knew that. I called my security team to drive a limo to get it all to the airport and onto the plane, then tomorrow morning when they pick us up it will be all ready to go.”

Arthur nodded, focusing his attention back to Peter, who was climbing off the couch and lowering himself to the ground. 

“Where are you off too?” Arthur asked, watching the small blonde reach for the door handle. 

“I wanna explore!” The young boy cheered. Arthur looked to Alfred, who was grinning and escorting them out of the room. Arthur shrugged and let Peter grab his pale hand to pull him out of the door. 

Peter simply led him out the door and to the elevators where he went to different floors of the theater. They spent ages in the bathrooms that looked like they were pulled right out of the 1920s. Arthur had ended up sitting down watching the little one run around with his in-expiring amount of energy. Now, Arthur wasn’t that old at all but it sure felt like it with Peter around.

Arthur had soon had enough and rounded up the boy to find Alfred, who was in the dressing room holding the last of their outfits and bringing them out to a long black car that was parked on the very edge of the street. Arthur simply followed him with Peter bouncing along behind the couple, going wherever they went.

“Oooh, Arthur, who’s this?” Elizabeta had apparently been lingering around the theater probably taking the other half of the costumes and props, seeing as Alfred wasn’t the only one with a private plane. Roderich was right on her tail, just as curious to see Arthur with a young child following behind him. 

“He looks like you….but has blue eyes?” Eliza bent down studying the mini Arthur with blues eyes. 

“I didn’t think it was biologically possible for two guys to have a kid. Kesesese.” Gilbert laughed, opening the door to the auditorium. Arthur rolled his eyes wondering when the assuming would ever be over, though he knew that Gilbert was joking. 

“He is my brother.” Arthur crossed his arms and turned his eyes toward Alfred, who was handing some props to a bodyguard seeing as Alfred mostly used them for helping and carrying stuff because he didn’t always need them for security purposes. 

“Oh, he’s ridiculously cute, though.” Elizabeta cooed. 

“And I’m not?” Arthur asked in a sarcastic tone. 

“Arthur, you are much older and handsome, not cute, unless Alfred thinks otherwise.” Eliza complimented, standing up and pinching Arthur’s cheeks instead, reminding Arthur of the curtain call from last night even though it seemed like ages ago already.

“Good job stealing the spotlight again, even  _ after  _ the show was over.” Elizabeta hit Arthur in the arm, “But now you're going to get shit from the media for it, you know?” 

“I’ve already prepared myself for that, but it couldn’t be any worse than what has been said already.” Arthur reminded himself, looking toward the ground and to see that Peter was waddling over to the new people in the room. He stared for a while at Gilbert, who looked extremely odd to the seven year old, who had most likely never seen as Albino before. 

“Why is he staring at me?” Gilbert asked slightly freaked out as he pointed downward to Peter. 

  
“You do look pretty odd.” Roderich spoke.

“Rude, Roddy.” Gilbert whined. 

Arthur looked back to Elizabeta, “Are you leaving tomorrow as well?”

“No, we are going today.” She answered, raising a perfected eyebrow, “Are you not? Filming starts on Wednesday, again.” 

“We are going to Alfred’s parents tonight and leaving tomorrow as far as I know.” Arthur explained so that the Hungarian wouldn’t worry about it. 

“What are you doing to do with the kid?” She asked, concerned. 

Arthur sighed, “My parents asked us to take him to California for a few weeks while they toured America.”

“Weeks?!” Eliza exclaimed, surprised, “They just dumped him on you?” 

“No, not exactly, that buffoon over there offered to take him so that they could take him back when they ended up in California.” Arthur pointed over to Alfred, explaining everything as simply as possible. 

“Are you okay with that?” Eliza asked. The brown haired Hungarian women had known Arthur for a while, probably since their early days a few years ago. They had both auditioned for a film and both got the lead roles, which had sparked a friendship.

“I don’t prefer it, but I don’t mind it either. He doesn’t seem to think of me as a terrifyingly bad person like my brothers do.” Arthur glanced over to Peter as he ran over to Alfred, who had finished putting things into the limousine that would be heading straight to the airport. Alfred easily picked up the small boy when he asked to be held, making it look easy, even though Alfred seemed to have no problem picking up Arthur either if he had to, which made Arthur question logic.

“Hey Artie, we are headin’ out. Mom is making dinner.” Alfred called, putting Peter on his shoulders so that the blonde, in a small sailor’s outfit, could sit on his shoulders and be taller than everyone else in the enormous room. 

“Bye lovelys!” Elizabeta waved as Arthur walked over to Alfred, who smiled as they gathered into the car that was pulled up out of the valet, they were stopped by people who were  _ still  _ trying to admire it. 

“Your parent’s have an extra room, right?” Arthur wondered, buckling Peter in tightly.

“‘Course! Plus, they know that we have Peter.” Alfred figured that his loving mother made her husband clear out a room or make up the bed in the guest room or Matt’s old room. 

“Very well.” Arthur concluded, listening to the music on the radio Alfred made small talk about the things he was thinking of doing while they had Peter, half using him as an excuse to go to a petting zoo or to an amusement park, mostly because he was sure that he couldn’t do that as an adult. 

Alfred pulled into the parking garage of the condo, they gathered everything they needed to take back to California and packed up their suitcases while Peter sat on the expensive couch drinking the last of Alfred’s capri suns and watching a cartoon. Once everything was packed, they gathered into the limousine instead of Alfred’s beloved Hypersport and were chauffeured to Queens. 

Peter was automatically all over the long vehicle and then all over the family cat once they made it to Amelia and Allen’s humble residence. 

“Peter’s will be staying in Mattie’s old room, since he is in Toronto as of right now.” Amelia casually informed them as they walked into the door. 

They each brought their own luggage up to their respective rooms and gathered downstairs to dinner again. 

“Do you know when the finish date for the movie is yet?” Amelia asked after she called all the males in the house for dinner. 

“How many times do I have to tell ya, Mom? Nobody knows yet!” Alfred laughed, hating having to remind the lady, who was excited about everything, that it might still be awhile. 

“This isn’t another one of your tricks is it, Alfred Jones?” Amelia sneered in question. 

“No, would I ever lie to you?” Alfred asked, talking with food in his mouth. 

“You did when I asked you if you were in a relationship.” Amelia nodded. 

“It was a surprise, Mom.” Alfred defended himself. 

“Was it a surprise Arthur? Or did he try to pull something on you too?” Amelia asked Arthur, who was poking the bun to the hamburger with a fork. 

“It was a surprise I assure you, I knew it was going to happen beforehand.” Arthur explained, cutting the strange sandwich into pieces for himself and then leaning over and doing the same for Peter, who looked fiercely confused by the meal. Peter eventually ended up liking the strange sandwich once Arthur had de-americanized it. 

The night, just after dinner, was not so smooth. 

Arthur put Peter to bed an hour or two ago in the twin bed that Matthew used to sleep in, but not too long after, around midnight, the sound of a creaking door and the flash of the hallway light suggested that Arthur’s efforts at putting Peter to bed were in vain. Arthur had been asleep until Alfred had tried spooning him and had unintentionally disrupted the wounds on Arthur’s back, leaving him uncomfortable and wide awake. Alfred had woken up to Arthur yelping and trying to scoot away, screeching apologises when he realised what he had done. A few minutes after, Alfred fell right back asleep leaving Arthur awake and running things through in his head, such as how he was going to deal with Peter throughout the next few weeks. He didn’t want to give a bad image of himself to his little brother and live up to whatever his brothers had possibly said, but at the same time he didn’t want to be his pretend actor self that presented to the public. 

He was stuck between being himself and a better version of himself; the one that he wanted people to see. 

Arthur was broken out of his thoughts by some rustling to the side of him and then a soft voice speaking in a british accent, “Arthur?” 

“What is it, love?” Arthur said, being as sympathetic as he could. 

“I don’t like sleeping alone and this place is creepy.” Peter mumbled, letting his eyes adjust to the night. He saw that Arthur was lying on his side with an arm over his stomach where it met his hip in a loose cuddle, he was wearing a white dress shirt to bed, which Peter had thought was strange but shrugged it off. He couldn’t see Alfred as well, so he stuck with looking to his older brother. 

“In you go then.” Arthur offered, unmoving from his position, with the exception of bringing a hand up from under the duvet and patting the bed like he was motioning for a pet to come lie next to him. Such as Alfred’s cat that was sitting on the end of the bed purring. 

“Thank you, Arthur!” Peter smiled and whispered-yelled. 

“Is it really that creepy, Peter?” Arthur asked, allowing his brother to snuggle up under his own arm like he was with Alfred, who was now more aware of what he was doing even though he was sleeping. 

Peter nodded vigorously, earning a giggle from Arthur, who knew it was just a fear of being a young child. A few moments passed before either one of them spoke again, when someone did it was Peter.

“What is your house like in California?” 

“It’s not necessarily my house, but I guess you could say that Alfred and I share it.” Arthur started, getting that out of the way first.

“But I thought you were living with him?” Peter looked puzzled, Arthur was surprised that the boy even knew anything about that stuff. 

“I am, but I still have my own house, I don’t think it is as big as his though. Imagine, one person living in a big mansion all by himself.” Arthur continued, considering it a tactic to possibly get Peter to sleep. 

“That would be scary  _ and  _ lonely.” Peter replied, fully invested in the conversation now. 

“It used to be. But Alfred was in the same situation, a big house with nobody to share it with.” Arthur felt his words were a little too philosophical for a seven year old to understand. 

“Why didn’t you just get a smaller house?” Peter asked. 

“For some it is a matter of status, love. It is recommended that you keep your status up and never own a house less one million American dollars.” 

“That’s a lot.” Peter yawned, Arthur hoped his words were possibly boring the boy to sleep, “But I want you to describe what it looks like.” Peter said matter of factly. 

“You’ll see it soon enough, won’t you?” Arthur thought it was a waste to spoil such a grand reveal. 

“Please?” Peter urged, turning around to face his brother instead. 

“Oh alright. Remember the theater we were in today?” Arthur ran through the house in his mind, from the entryway to the pool and the bedrooms, to the theater in the basement. Peter nodded, but didn’t say anything just listening. “Remember everything we explored, now imagine that on a ledge looking down over a big city. But certainly do not forget to make room for a large swimming pool in the backyard with a few lights around it. Going back inside there is a big living room decorated with pretty, expensive furniture and a kitchen, the rooms are decorated in white sheets and there are a lot of windows. The basement is it’s own theater.” Arthur ended giving the basics, there were even some parts of the house that Arthur had never seen or that Alfred just didn’t even use. 

“That’s amazing!” Peter yawned again, letting his eyes droop and the curtain close as he dreamed about the house that Arthur had described. 

“Your description didn’t do it justice.” Alfred mumbled, apparently being awake the entire time. 

“Piss off, would you? Go back to bed.” Arthur scolded. 

“Language, Artie. We have a kid now.” Alfred laughed quietly, something Arthur didn’t know was possible. 

“You do the same thing, why don’t you?” Arthur said, sounding very British. Alfred loved it and let Arthur turn around so they could face each other, Arthur leaned in for a sweet chaste kiss as Alfred smiled against his lips. Peter shifted behind Arthur, seemingly searching for something. Arthur, feeling this, took a gamble and allowed himself to lie on his back for a second to let Peter curl up in the crook of his arm like Alfred let him do. Alfred kept his arm under Arthur’s head as a pillow and to keep the strain off Arthur’s upper back. In this weird jumbled mess they fell asleep. Waking up, the three were in an even stranger position that Amelia had to laugh about when she came in to wake the boys in the morning. 

Amelia laughed, waking Arthur up and then opening the curtain, causing the Englishman to shield his eyes, Peter did the same by tucking his head into Arthur’s stomach under the covers, Alfred laid behind Arthur again, like a log and unmoving besides his chest moving up and down. 

“Five more min–” Alfred repeated his daily routine, but Amelia didn’t let him finish. 

“You better get up and ready Alfred Jones or you will most definitely miss your flight and smother Arthur.” Amelia said sternly, seeing the clock on the bedside table. 

“What times’ it?” Alfred slurred, moving a slight bit and feeling Arthur’s legs under the cover as he was trying to get up, but stopped by his own exhaustion. 

“Almost one in the afternoon. Lunch is ready downstairs.” Amelia informed, backing out of the room and heading down the stairs with a creak of the wooden stairs. 

“Upsy daisy.” Arthur announced, looking under the covers at his little brother and poking him a few times before the little boy giggled and smiled up at Arthur, who started tickling the boy to get him up and out of the covers so that they wouldn’t miss their flight.

Once Arthur had gotten Peter out from under the covers and out of the bed he motioned for Peter to head out of the room, “Go get dressed and brush your teeth, make sure everything is packed up, while I get this lazy buffoon up.” Arthur instructed. Peter giggled at his older brother, who had turned to poke his boyfriend in the face. Peter had closed the door behind him, giving Arthur a cue to be able to mount the American’s hips and hold him down and put his hands to the American’s muscular sides and also tickle him awake but in a way that he is unable to get out of. 

“Artie, you're so cruel.” Alfred whined, attempting to throw Arthur off him, but the Brit held up and continued until Alfred’s laughter boomed through the room. With his success, Arthur smiled and finally rolled off of Alfred knowing that he would finally get out of bed. 

Sure enough he did and in a matter of ten minutes and Arthur’s orders they were all washed up and dressed having lunch with their luggages gathered by the door. After they finished Amelia gave all three hugs and kisses and sent them on their way only if they promised to visit or if she could come to California.

Once again, Peter was fascinated by the world all around him, from the limousine that came and gathered them up from Alfred’s parents house to the private airport where a few other people were gathered. The same group that had flown in with them were doing the same on the way back. Francis, Antonio, Gilbert, Feliciano, Lovino, Ludwig, Mathias, and Lukas, who was more than delighted to be going back to California. 

Peter stayed with Arthur for the first part of the plane ride, until Alfred called the two to the cockpit where he let Peter sit on his lap and ‘help’ fly the plane while Arthur monitored from the passenger seat, with a visible smile on his face. After that Peter spent his time running around the plane, and getting close to the Italians. Feliciano then spent the next two hours trying to convince Ludwig that they should get ‘one’ and Ludwig telling the little Italian that he sucked enough at even taking care of himself. 

Antonio was asking the same of Lovino, who didn’t seem against it but didn’t want to deal with it either and urged Antonio to shut up so he could keep doing what he was doing on his phone. Feliciano ended up entertaining the little Brit with games since they were similar and probably shared the same mental age. 

The five hours had passed for them all easily, Arthur and Alfred sat and talked about random things in the front of the plane, giving the actual pilot a long break. Arthur was laughing at something Alfred said when he was about to land the plane, Alfred smiled and finished the flight before giving the plane back to the pilot as they bro hugged. Alfred and Arthur then followed everyone out of the plane. 

Peter was being held by Feliciano when Arthur finally found him outside the plane. Peter seemed reluctant to leave the little Italian, but Feliciano had promised to come visit and help take him around the set when the time came when Alfred and Arthur said they would. 

Alfred’s car was still parked in the same place they left it and Peter was once again full of amazement at every little thing he laid eyes on. Peter was even more taken aback at what he saw as they drove up the hill to the mansion on top of it. The boy’s eyes went wide as Arthur was just relieved to see it after a few days. There were a few lights on outside and inside as it was already getting dark. 

“Can we swim in the pool?” Peter asked, seeing it from the side. 

“Let’s get settled again first, hmm?” Arthur agreed and let Alfred pull into the large garage that made Peter’s eyes go another size bigger, until they got into the actual house where they looked like they were going to pop out of his small head, and his mouth gaped open like a fish. Arthur was genuinely concerned for the safety of Peter’s eyes if they were to open anymore. Alfred led Peter to the bedroom that Arthur was supposed to take initially, but that obviously didn’t happen. He took his and Arthur’s stuff to their own bedroom as Arthur helped Peter unpack.

“It’s kind of like your description.” Peter said happily, digging through his unfolded suitcase to find his swim trunks. Once he found them he went into the bathroom just off the bedroom and put them on, very determined to go to the pool. 

“Is it?” Arthur questioned once he was out again. 

Peter nodded enthusiastically. Alfred was also in his out swimsuit, reaching out to give Arthur his designated swim dress shirt so he could chill on the side of the pool. 

“You wear glasses?” Peter asked once he saw Alfred wearing them out to the pool, which Arthur had to eventually remind him to take off. Alfred smiled and dove into the pool with a splash making Peter laugh and want to do the same. So, with as much force as he could, he jumped into the shallow end instead so that he could at least touch the bottom. 

“The security team should be here within the next few minutes I think.” Alfred informed Arthur, who sat in his favourite spot on the edge of the pool dipping his legs into the water. 

Peter had found the experience fun and the large house even more fun. Though he did question why his brother didn’t get in the pool but never really dug into it. Alfred and Arthur kept up a casual conversation as Alfred threw Peter up and out of the water like a diving board, he even took him to the deep end a few times.

As instructed, the security came within ten minutes and lined themselves around the entirety of the house. 

Inside, an hour later, Arthur was chasing Peter with a towel to dry him off but the younger just kept running around and away from him until Alfred caught him and threw him up into the air, the youngest blonde giggled. Arthur smiled and grabbed clothing for his brother. Alfred brought him into the living room with his wet hair all spiked and funny looking. The next few minutes consisted of Peter sitting on the floor eating food that Alfred made, watching cartoons, and letting Arthur brush his hair. Alfred seated himself next to Arthur and let the Brit snuggle up when he finished brushing the mop on Peter’s head. 

**_____**

After that day, the next few days didn’t get easier. 

It had been the third day back on set seeing as the first had been full of discussions, most of various topics of interest. Marc had even wondered if they should do another show, the Producer had talked him out of it though. The second day they filmed mini scenes, the ones that went in between major scenes to make the story flow better and make more sense. Arthur never thought he would ever get used to the stiff feel of a corset or anyone of the outfits, but he did. 

The movie was making great progress, Marc on most days would be the happiest director in Hollywood and other days Feliks would be swinging from the rafters and Eliza would resort to hitting Gilbert, or anyone, with her frying pan. So far, if one had to guess, they would say that in watching the footage the film was about forty to fifty percent finished. Only counting the technical elements, and a few other details, after they were done filming the footage would still have to go through many processes before it was completely finished. 

The end of the days were simple and well spent. Since they had decided to let Peter stay, the boy would stay in the mansion and do whatever he liked with the watchful eyes of the maids that adored him, sometimes they had even brought their own children for Peter to play with. 

As soon as the couple had gotten home afterwards the maids and their children would say their goodbyes and tell Peter that they would stop by the next day. Alfred and Arthur would always plan something for them and Peter to do, and the little boy loved it. Peter had never regretted saying that his other older brothers were wrong and that Arthur wasn’t a furious creature. In fact, Peter was convinced that Arthur was the coolest person ever, the only one that topped him on that scale was Alfred.

For the past few nights Alfred would pass out early, as most of the scenes on set were based around him and Gilbert, so the blue eyed man would always be exhausted, especially after they had taken Peter to do something after they had gotten home. And for the first two nights, Peter had had trouble sleeping by himself, saying the house was big and scary. Arthur had taken it upon himself to baby the boy like his mother would always do to him when he was much younger, the green eyed man would even find a chaptered book and read it to Peter until he fell asleep and stayed asleep the whole night. Sometimes Arthur would even tell him about the stories of the movies he had been in for the past six years. Arthur would gently push the hair out of Peter’s eyes and confirm that he was asleep before kissing his forehead and backing out of the room quietly, he wod then fall into bed next to Alfred, who would gobble him up with cuddles and kisses. 

Life was great, but it only kept getting faster. 

The fourth day is when the film was made public. The trailers were put out, and Marc had set up a two day photo shoot for that day and the next in a studio a few miles away from the set. A few members of the cast were chosen and told to go to the photo shoot studio those mornings instead of the set. 

When the group of four walked into the room, there were flashes of light, bright white and green canvases, and professional people everywhere. Each man had three costumes from the set with him and were ordered by a woman to go to the dressing rooms just behind a wall and place them there before coming back into the main room. Francis, Gilbert, Arthur, and Alfred, had always known that this was going to be happening, but it seemed that everything had gone so fast. In a few more weeks Amelia would get her dream of seeing the movie for herself, as Arthur and Alfred would be set up with new roles to audition for. 

“Here’s how this is going to go, people.” A foreign dark haired kid named Leon started, holding his expensive portable camera by the straps around his neck. He was most definitely younger than the four standing in front of him, but he seemed to know exactly what he was doing and acted very professional.

“This is, like, going to be a two day thing and I have, like, you four today and stuff and then a few others including you guys tomorrow.” His strangely accented slang sounded like a mixture of Feliks, British, and Chinese. Pertaining to the idea that, “It’s a small world”, the stylishly dressed guy was related to Yao, the club owner who, not so secretly, recently hooked up with Ivan. 

“I want to start with you two. I, like, already know the plot and stuff so just go put on the traditional costumes first and then we can start. You two can, like, sit back and relax.” Leon had pointed to his lense and then at Arthur and Alfred first before motioning for Francis and Gilbert to take a seat and let the assistants serve them lemon, and cucumber water. 

Alfred and Arthur were dressed in a matter of minutes in the ‘casual’ outfits of the time and standing blankly in front of a camera. A few people around them pancaked liquid and powder makeup to their faces, while others adjusted lights and cameras to set up for the promotion pictures and overall shots for the film.

“Start by getting yourself comfy on the sofas and with the props and we’ll start in, like, a few minutes.” Leon continued. 

Leon directed them to a blank canvas and took a few shots there before quickly motioning them to the green screens each going once and then the other going next, this was done a few times for each costume. Leon and Francis even teamed up when Leon couldn’t figure out where and how they should stand. Meanwhile during a few of the poses Gilbert was throwing cash. 

Arthur and Alfred decided to follow the trend, after all of their own shots for the movie were finished, they ended up digging in their wallets for paper money and throwing it at Francis and Gilbert. Leon laughed, but at the same time he was a bit tired of people who were years older than him being childish. 

“Careful you two, if you keep hanging around children you are going to turn into them.” Francis smirked, striking a pose in front of the camera and speaking in between his professional poses. 

“Kesesese, I don’t think Al even grew out of that. But I expected more of you, Arthur.” Gilbert laughed, following everything that Francis was doing, making the two blondes behind the camera laugh and making Leon eat it up with his camera. 

Arthur rolled his eyes and continued to pick up dollar bills from the floor. 

“You two hop back in so I can take a group shot before individuals.” Leon instructed and motioned for the makeup artists to fix everyone again. 

“No prob, dude.” Alfred found himself saying and hooking an arm around Arthur’s structured torso, dropping his money as he was dragged away. 

“That’s perfect, just put Arthur closer to Francis and Gilbert on the other side of Alfred. Alfred, keep holding Arthur.” Leon preached and snapped multiple different shots, each one of the four were doing something different, until the last one which was straight up ridiculous. Leon sighed, looking out the window that spewed daylight of the afternoon, figuring it was going to be a long day. 

Luckily, the four would be leaving right after normal, non costumed, shots with each other and alone. Each of the four were given clothing instead of using their own and made pretty by the artists on the set. Initially Francis insisted he didn’t need it, but Arthur told the Frenchman and the make-up artists otherwise. 

“Just look pretty because these are the ones that will go on the interview spreads and magazine covers.” Leon imposed.

Arthur sighed and shoved himself into the signature leather pants he was always seen in and a thin blank shirt of cotton. It was almost a fact that most actors had already done this a few times in their lives, so Arthur listened to what Leon had to say, did it, and looked over at Alfred, who was drooling. His shots were over and done with as quickly as possible and after so full body shots and up close shots it was Alfred’s turn.

Alfred seemed to have more fun with it than Arthur did, but everyone was told to look in front of the camera with a straight face or a smile. For Arthur the concept was nice, simple, and not over enthusiastic. Alfred defined Arthur’s look as cute, but Fierce. Alfred, on the other hand, looked exactly like he always did, happy and playful. They were all back at the white screen and so far Alfred had just gotten done and it was Francis turn. 

To which, Francis did not let anyone tell him what to do. Not Leon or any of the directors on the set. Francis immediately did his ‘sexy’ face then his downright happy one, clearly loving to be in front of the camera. However, he eventually had to be told to stop, seeing as it had been Gilbert’s turn for the past ten minutes. Once Francis actually decided it was enough of him, Gilbert hopped up into the camera's view and let the flash and beeps of the camera continue. 

Lastly, around three or four they decided that they were going to get a group picture of the four of them to put on a cover of something or whoever bought it to get the most buys for the magazine covers and titles. There had been a few of the four each standing next to each other with forced smiles on their faces, unless you were Alfred who was always happy, or Francis who could make it look natural. For Gilbert and Arthur, they just looked constipated. 

“Please, at least try to be a little bit happy, I don’t want to be here either, but you leave me no choice.” Leon persuaded. Alfred looked over at Arthur, who was next to him. Alfred through one hand over his shoulder and his other arm over Gilbert’s on his other side. Alfred, for a second, leaned over and whispered something into Arthur’s ear all while Leon kept taking pictures and mumbling that that was exactly what he had been wanting to see since they started. 

Sure enough though, Alfred’s plan worked and by the time he pulled away from Arthur the Brit was trying to contain a laugh and it just wasn’t working. Leon snapped a picture of them looking at each other and a few other ways. Soon they set up for a new round of photos. 

“This one is going to, like, much more fun than the last two so just pretend like you are all friends here.” The asian man instructed and made different lighting arrangements to accommodate for the dimming lighting outside. 

For the next picture they were all told to act casually, and since they happened to be better at random and funky poses they decided on that instead. Alfred ended up putting Arthur on his back and Gilbert attempted to do the same to Francis, which ended hilariously badly with Francis on the floor and Gilbert cry-laughing. Yeah, that picture will probably float around on the internet for the next five years. 

After that fiasco, they all decided that since Arthur was the lightest that he would lie horizontally and Alfred, Gilbert, and Francis could hold him. After that, the young photographer had asked them to do something serious instead of whatever the fuck that they had been doing before.

This time they stood in a line, Arthur and Francis in the middle as they were the two shortest, then they switched it up a little and stood in a row facing each other's backs instead and turned to look sideways at the camera.

“Alfred’s eyes up.” Leon caught himself saying. It had only been a fews days ago since the big show in New York, the show where the legendary curtain call had taken place, and anyone you asked would say that they knew about it from one coast to another, even some across the ocean. In just a few days time it was common knowledge that something was going on between Alfred and Arthur. 

That just so happened to be when Leon had gotten an idea, he was planning to let everyone off a few hours early as the shoot had gone quicker than expected but now he was thinking other things. 

“Don’t worry, Amerique, I used to do it all the time. Still do.” Francis indulged. Making Alfred flich and get the slightest bit annoyed and a hint jealous. 

“You bloody well better not.” Arthur snapped, turning around and eyes Francis from around Alfred’s shoulder. 

“Hon hon hon.” Francis laughed, preparing himself for the small hits that Arthur would try to place on him, unless Alfred did it first. 

“Alright, we’re, like, done here. Gilbert and Francis you guys can leave, but I need you two to stay. For additional purposes.” Leon dismissed, hopping away from the camera to take a break for a second while Gilbert and Francis wished them goodbyes and scrambled out of the building. In those few minutes Alfred and Arthur were whisked away by some designers to fix some new costumes and different outfits that could be paired together to create new front page headlining pictures. 

Thankfully, the outfit that Arthur was given was not a corset or not his own leather pants. It was simply a very large long sleeved sweatshirt that was entirely light green, while the form fitting pants were black. Arthur was sure if they had given him the wrong size shirt until he saw Alfred. The American was wearing a form fitting sweatshirt that looked flawless on him, so Arthur figured that what he was wearing was also just the style. 

Leon looked pleased with the redressing and set them up in front of the camera, “These are going to be more of the like magazine covers, mostly about you guys because after the New York show everyone is wanting the stories behind it.” 

“Meaning everyone is going to make money and everyone is going to be happy.” A second voice said, making itself known and settling itself near Leon, who was messing with the camera again, “I’m Leon’s predecessor.” The man who looked like Yao chimed into the conversation, standing next to Leon and announcing himself to Alfred and Arthur, who looked mildly confused. 

“No, you're my brother and I just, like, asked you to help is all.” Leon corrected. 

“Right.” In those few seconds while Leon reset, a few artists fixed more makeup and hair and clothing, pulling Arthur’s sleeves down over his hands instead of rolled up like he had them. Leon’s brother and introduced himself as Im yong soo and started yelling orders loudly with a smile on his face.

“Do cute stuff, that’s what you're being paid for.” Im yong soo yelled when everything was completed and the American and British man were standing in front of the camera, “These are going to be for those gossip magazines, if your managers allow it.” 

Arthur nodded, resisting the urge to roll his eyes and the strange request. Since Alfred also didn’t have a clue what he was doing Leon and his brother decided to tell them what to do until Alfred and Arthur had gotten the hang of it.

Arthur was then being held onto by Alfred, who was hugging him from behind as they both gave smiles to the camera. Alfred kept saying things that made Arthur laugh which delighted the camera man and his assistant. 

“ Yeah! Just do the stuff that you usually do.” The Korean native exclaimed. 

Alfred had felt it was strange that someone was actually okay with them doing whatever they did at home on a camera instead, nothing crazy just domestic poses and the things that two cameramen thought would make nice photos. That’s how they decided that it was fine to just go with it, even though a camera was on them the whole time, it didn’t really feel like it, the clicks of the camera shutter and the beeps of it registering into the computer didn’t really occur in a large proportion. 

Instead, Alfred just led them in a few different poses, he casually dipped Arthur to do something dramatic, but most of the time they stuck with staying in each other’s arms and letting the camera do it’s own work. Leon even asked them to kiss a few times which Alfred had gratefully taken up, since it had been awhile and they refrained from doing so often around Peter. 

Before they were actually able to leave, Leon asked for a few more pictures where they would be in their casual everyday clothing and then they were free to leave. As a bonus they got to keep the photoshoot clothes.

Peter had been ecstatic that they were home earlier than normal. He had been sitting in the living room with some of the other children when he heard the door open and close and the sound of keys. He got up and looked into the hallway, screeching happily and running straight down the long hall and into Arthur’s arms, who automatically picked him up.

“Why are you home so early?” Peter asked, looking up at Alfred and Arthuras they walked into the house and into the kitchen where Arthur set Peter down on the countertop and stood back a little. 

“Our shoot had ended early so he decided we would do something else today.” Arthur explained, putting his hands on his hips and looking out into the living room where the television screen was blasted by some brightly coloured children's shows that some of the maids children were watching intently. 

“Oh you’re home early, do you want us to leave?” A housekeeper asked, coming from the ways of the bedrooms and other rooms that were stored in the house. 

“If you dudes have work you gotta finish up then by all means, we were just gonna take Peter out and about again today.” Alfred said, getting himself something to drink from the fridge and making two cups of tea for Arthur and Peter, who gladly took them when offered. 

“Alright then, we were just finishing up tidying everything.” The housekeeper had said with a lovely red-lipped smile that simply complimented her tanned skin. 

Alfred nodded and watched the housekeeper gather a few other people and their things and continue with the last room they were fixing up. He watched as Arthur lowered Peter off the counter and followed him over to where the younger children were, they seemed a bit frightened by Arthur’s presence, but quickly warmed up when they realised that he wasn’t that bad. 

Peter had then said goodbye to all of the other children and followed Arthur out the front door to where Alfred was waiting in an expensive, but more practical, car. He held the passenger door and the backseat door opened, one for Arthur, the other for Peter. 

This time Arthur didn’t know where they were going, but Alfred seemed excited about it. Arthur just hoped it wasn't into the city. 


	20. “I don’t want the world to see me, ‘cause I don’t think that they’d understand. When everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiku met Alfred, Arthur, and a lot of the other cast members at a large hotel conference room just downtown. The conference was supposed to be entirely about the movie but it was obvious from the moment they got there that people were itching to ask about Alfred, Arthur, and the manager's statement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls. 
> 
> It's been a while I told myself I would update this regularly but that hasn't been the case. Shit's crazy all up in this planet at the moment. 
> 
> However, I will definitely finished uploading the next two chapters tonight so that this colossal piece of work is completed and better than the OG, but nobody's sake other than mine really, I wouldn't feel right keeping this unfinished no matter how questionable it may be at times. Like I said before I will prolly revisit it in another three years and fix it again, it is essentially going to keep growing along with my sub-par writing skills. 
> 
> I am also fully aware that there are still mistakes in this work, I sometimes fix them in the Google doc but not on Ao3, it's a bad habit and I'm not proud of it lol.

**Chapter Twenty: Attention**

“Hey Arthur?” 

“Yes Peter?” 

“Are you  _ sure  _ that you want me here?” Peter questioned, a hint of sadness and regret in his voice. Something that Arthur found a cause for concern considering that he was still so young. Arthur immediately opened his eyes from the resting state they were in and looked down toward Peter who had shifted so that he was looking up at Arthur with his large blue eyes, a shade darker than Alfred’s own. 

“Why wouldn’t I? Who in the world told you that?” Arthur spiked up but was laid back down again by Peter who had not wanted to sit up. 

“I heard Mummy and Daddy saying that nobody wanted me and you were, um, ‘reluctant’ to take me.” Peter recited, stuttering on the word reluctant. 

Arthur’s eyes that were looking at Peter, who had turned to look at something else, turned sympathetic, “I assure you that it was nothing of the sort…”  _ Maybe at first but definitely not anymore.  _ Arthur couldn’t get himself to say the rest, he couldn’t get himself to shatter Peter’s understanding.

“Okay.” Peter said contently, a small, tired smile on his face. 

For the past few hours after they had gotten home from their excursion, which had ended roughly with the paparazzi chasing them down four city blocks before they could lose them, Peter seemed quiet. Now Arthur knew why, and was glad that Peter had gotten his thoughts off of his chest. 

They had all been exhausted and plopped down onto the couch as soon as they had gotten home. They had also fallen asleep which was why Arthur was now lying in Peter’s bed instead of his and Alfred’s. 

Peter hadn’t been able to get back asleep after they had all dozed off on the couch, so Arthur, who always put Peter to bed, volunteered to again and casually cuddled his younger sibling to get him to sleep. However, it was only working for Arthur. After a few minutes of Peter asking questions and nearly talking Arthur to sleep, Peter lulled himself to sleep as well, leaving just enough time for Arthur to sneak out and down the hall to his and Alfred’s room.. 

Inside the room, Alfred was standing in a pair of boxer briefs with the bathroom door opened, humming a tune from the film while brushing his teeth. 

“Oh hey, Artie!” Alfred said washing his toothbrush off and rising before sticking the tool back into his mouth, “I’ve been meaning to ask you somethin’.” 

Alfred finished up his nightly routine and let Arthur in to do the same while Alfred sat behind him on the edge of the large elegant bathtub.

Arthur undressed and slipped on his gilded robe that he loved so much and acknowledged that he was listening, “What is it?” He asked carefully, curious. Alfred looked nervous, which wasn’t normal and most likely not a good sign. 

“I–uh–noticed that you never go back to your own house, so I thought that maybe–you should just move in with me?” Alfred stuttered. Arthur turned around from the sink holding his own toothbrush, a fluffy eyebrow was raised and he wore a look of confusion and genuine happiness. 

“I figured that was already the case.” Arthur looked at the American who was looking up at him from within his wire rimmed frames. 

“But, I mean for real, like get everything else and live with me.” Alfred said, this time less stuttery and more confident, he also stood up so that he could put his hands on Arthur’s hips. 

“You blooming idiot, of course I will.” Arthur agreed with a wide smile, loosely throwing his arms around Alfred’s shoulders, unable to control himself. After a few minutes they continued to the bedroom with Alfred trailing him like a puppy. 

The little proposition gave Arthur the initiative to drive the eight minutes from Alfred’s, and now his own house, to his old one the following day. It wasn’t as nearly as big as Alfred’s, but it was still classy and grand, the inside was more modern than Alfred’s sweet and old-timey mansion. 

It had been after Friday's photo shoot that Arthur had actually gone back to his house for the first time after the ‘incident’. The house didn’t hold the same warm inviting feeling that Alfred’s did, as of now it was the bearer of less than pleasant memories and loneliness. 

The photo shoot that day had been the same as yesterday, with the exception of there being a lot more people and bigger white and green screens. Mathias had even brought his whole posse so that they could all head to Yao’s afterwards and get stark drunk in the daylight only to stumble out on the street at night. Interestingly, though, there had been some tension in the photography room, good tension but slightly awkward. Mathias’ boyfriend, Lukas—Arthur hadn’t known they were an item until the plane right home from New York—had brought his younger brother, Emil, to the photo shoot because the young Icelander didn’t want to stay inside all day and was curious as to what Mathias, Tino, and Berwald did for a living. Emil had gotten his answer and the phone number of Leon, who couldn’t take his eyes off the light blonde haired foreigner. He even accidently took a picture of two of Emil instead of focusing on the actors and models in front of him. 

A bunch of other people, including Alfred, planned to follow the lead of Mathias and go day drinking at Yao’s, possibly to chat about a few things before they were unconscious. Alfred had begged Arthur to go for a good half an hour before the Englishman reluctantly agreed on a few conditions. 

One, Arthur was going to go home to first check on Peter and ask kindly if the maids would watch Peter until a later time. Luckily, the maids had been delighted and didn’t even hesitate to say ‘yes’. Two, Arthur told Alfred that he was going to start getting some of his things from his house and bring them to Alfred’s, where there was more than enough room for the clothing he left behind and some of the furniture. Though, he wasn’t sure if the garage full of Alfred’s prized possessions, also known as his cars, could hold another three, but he would certainly try. Arthur then agreed to meet Alfred at the bar in a few hours. Alfred had agreed happily and called up a few butlers to drive a limousine to Arthur’s so he could put a good amount of things in it and drive one of his other cars back to the house. 

It had only taken a few minutes to get there, open the door, and regret the decision immediately. Everything about the house reeked of his old, brutal, and exhausting situation before Alfred came swaggering into it. On one hand Arthur was happy to be here, but terrified at the same time. On the other hand he was way happier that he was with Alfred now and that the American offered care and an escape that Arthur had desperately needed. 

Arthur made his way into the bedroom, the sheets had been taken off of the bed, most likely by his manager, who had taken a few other belongings, but nothing important or worth noting. Arthur started by packing some of the linen and clothing that he hadn’t grabbed before in his rush to get everything the first time. This time he had all the time in the world and nothing to worry about other than when he was going to go down to the club and see Alfred again. Even though they had been together for quite some time already, Arthur’s heart still skipped beats whenever he thought of the other, what he didn’t know was that the American returned his sentiments. 

Arthur spent his time digging through everything he had and carrying it out to the car, now wishing he would have taken up the offer of Alfred’s help that the man had graciously offered. Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t though, as he had just stumbled upon his shelves of his and Francis’ heels that they had kept for safekeeping. He figured he might just wear a pair when he did end up going to Yao’s to find everyone else. 

It took a good hour and a half to get the rest of his closet into the long car and then a few other things like cushions and pillows and occasionally a few kitchen supplies, which he didn’t have a lot of consider he didn’t and couldn’t cook. One of the butlers assured him that some of the selected big, heavy, and expensive furniture would be brought to the house while he left for the night. Each time Arthur drove one of his three cars back to Alfred’s, he parked them outside so that the maids and butlers could ever so kindly fit them into the garage and help him bring in everything else. He did this approximately three or four times to get everything out and into boxes to be brought to Alfred’s house. 

Needless to say, Peter was confused, yet delighted, whenever Arthur came back to the house, but puzzled when he left and came back with more things. Peter had been ultimately bewildered when Arthur went into the bedroom and came out wearing different clothing and black heels that tapped on the hardwood.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two, hopefully with Alfred.” Arthur said sweetly to Peter, giving him a peck on the cheek. He waved to the housekeeper, Maria, who had volunteered to stay behind and watch Peter as Alfred and Arthur went out. He opted to drive one of his own cars, but quickly decided against it, letting the butler open the door to the limousine for him instead. 

When he had gotten to the establishment, he was surprised to see a less wild party than last time. The group consisted of Mathias, Lukas, Emil, who had gone off with Leon—which Lukas hadn’t been too happy about, but distracted himself in other ways. Tino and Berwald and a few others such as Gilbert, Vladimir, a friend of Lukas’, who was from Romania but moved to the United States for work on Horror films, were sat talking. Feliciano and Ludwig had gone along for the ride. The group sat at a smaller table, that allowed Arthur to spot Alfred sitting at the end of the table sipping some soda instead of hard liquor or beer like the Germans and Mathias were doing. 

As if on cue, after constantly looking at the door off the club, Arthur walked through it, Alfred seemed automatically happier again as he was bored with the conversation that was currently happening. Alfred had also been surprised at the click of heeled shoes on the floor of the lavish club. 

Alfred waved a hand in the air as if Arthur wasn’t already looking at him, “Over here, Artie!” 

“Did you honestly think I couldn’t see you, you prat?” Arthur approached, his eyes squinted in annoyance knowing that this group wasn’t the only in the place and that a few others had already stopped to look at whatever was going on under the dim golden and silver chandelier. 

Arthur soon took a seat on Alfred’s lap and let some of the waiters come and take his order, before starting to listen in on the boring conversation that was commencing. 

“Okay, but wouldn’t it be way better if everything was scented? Like toilet paper and everything?” Mathias slurred. 

“There already is scented TP, man.” Somebody replied. 

“How long has he been doing this?” Arthur asked, turning to Alfred, who shrugged before answering. 

“Since we got here I think.” Alfred recalled, Arthur nodded, “I thought you said you’d never wear these?” Alfred asked, sliding his hand down Arthur’s legs and to the black shoes on his feet. 

  
“Well, I just so happened to find them while cleaning out my closet.” Arthur excused, “Anywho, I also told Maria that we would be home before eleven.” Arthur spoke, trying to change the subject which was difficult when Alfred’s hand was running along his thigh. 

“Where’d ya put everything?” Alfred questioned, looking to Arthur and then over to Yao, earning a nod from the Chinese man. 

“In those extra rooms that gather dust.” Arthur responded, looking oddly confused when Alfred nodded back at Yao. 

“I wanna show you something.” Alfred announced quietly, standing up from the table. Arthur followed him in a way that nobody even noticed that they were leaving. Alfred took them to the entryway of the club with an elevator just inside the foyer, he clicked a button that took them to the fifteenth floor. Arthur was, by now, definitely confused, but Alfred had a happy and satisfied look on his face. 

**____**

The morning after, or approximately an hour and a half later, the two lie breathless against one another. Alfred would occasionally say little things that Arthur would giggle at, and lightly hit Alfred in the arm for, but Alfred loved it. This sort of conversation only got ridiculous when the two wouldn’t stop saying those three little words to each other, and as ridiculous at it was it sounded, it was the truth. It was something not one of them had ever experienced before, while both were no strangers to sex and relationships, love was a completely new experience.

When they did finally decide to get up, the time was near on the edge of eleven, but neither was panicking. Sure, later on they might feel bad about the hold up but nothing much could ruin the night they had set out on. With the exception of a few things, of course. 

They had spent the next twenty minutes getting out of the bed and putting on their clothing, although more messily than before. In between putting each garment of clothing on, they would stop and give the other a peck on the lips. It ended with the two laughing in a way that made them sound drunk and giddy. They eventually put their sunglasses on, even though it was night, for safety purposes and as a shield of protection against cameras as they went to leave the club. 

The real shock came when they stepped outside. A press conference was scheduled for the following Monday afternoon in a large rented meeting room in some esteemed building downtown LA. However, since the conference had not commenced yet, there were a lot more questions than answers, and more assumptions than facts, some going way over the top to make sense of the things that people wanted to know and understand. 

Outside the club, which was starting to get busy, there were more people with cameras, some of the bunch looked far more professional than the majority. The only explanation that Arthur could make was that they must have seen him, Alfred, or the hefty number of cast members that walked in sometime earlier and decided to wait until they came back out to bombard them. 

The ones that looked more professional were pushing their ways to the front and center where Alfred and Arthur were standing hand in hand, the couple immediately stopped talking, gaining a sense of what the people around them wanted. However, their understanding of the situation didn’t stop the downpour of photos being taken and questions being asked that were all jumbled in a way that made no sense. The two exited the building, trying to make their way to the limousine that was a few feet away from where they were standing. The only problem was how they were going to make it there through the thick crowds of people. 

“Did you know that there is a rumour about your manager?” Was one of the questions that Arthur could hear all around them and they kept their heads down and tried to maneuver through the thick crowd.

“Your manager released a statement, what are your thoughts on it?” Went another one, frankly they all frightened Arthur to no extent, but he also didn’t feel the need to be worried by the topic, considering it was probably all rubbish anyway. If anybody knew the real story they wouldn't believe a word that the man had said. Hopefully, he hoped he would never have to tell the story, ever. 

Getting into the car was like entering the gates of heaven, if there was such a thing, though there were still the faint sounds of the same vague questions, there was also still flashing behind the tinted windows. 

Once home, they opted for turning off the tv, paying Maria extra for the wait and heading straight to bed, it was already late enough. When they had gotten home Peter had already fallen asleep and was put into his room to rest, so that Arthur wouldn’t have to. 

Out of the three residing in the house, Arthur and Peter were always the first ones up, it was rare for Alfred to be up first unless it was a work day or he was excited about something. Arthur had walked out of his and Alfred’s bedroom to find that the living room television was on and playing some random news program as his younger brother sat on the couch curled up in the blanket that Alfred always kept on the back of the couch. 

“What’s on? Anything good?” Arthur asked, looking between his brother and the screen. 

“No, but you are on the telly.” Peter said, sitting up from where he was snuggled into the couch, his eyes wide. The television volume was turned down low enough to where Arthur couldn’t hear it from his standing position in the kitchen, he was contemplating trying to cook again. 

“I assure you that that is a normal occurrence, dear.” Arthur shifted, tugging opened the fridge. 

“I don’t think it’s good, Arthur.” Peter sounded worried, he had now jumped off the couch to stand closer to the screen. This made Arthur turn his attention from looking at the expiration date of the milk in the fridge to the TV that sat in the living room across the way. At the same time Alfred came slouching out, looking toward the television before looking to Arthur and the fridge, doing a double take. 

There could technically be two Arthur’s in the room at the moment, one with a look of complete and utter despair, confusion, and anger, and the other being a still picture that was taken at the photo shoot two days before, a simple picture of Arthur in front of a white canvas not looking directly into the camera. It was one where he was probably laughing about something Alfred was most likely doing behind the camera. The broadcast switched between a few different pictures, some paparazzi produced, before ending on the most colourful and serious studio taken picture. Unconsciously, Arthur and Alfred both started moving towards the screen as Alfred grabbed the remote and began turning up the volume to the gigantic television. 

On the screen, Arthur’s all too well known ex-manager was standing in front of flashing cameras with several microphones being shoved in his face. He answered the questions that were being asked over and over. His suit was clean and pressed and he wore a conniving, but well hidden, look of revenge and betrayal. 

“What do you think about this issue, sir?” Arthur’s old manager looked to find the voice that was addressing him as if he was important. Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the man on the screen, as he was afraid he would miss a second of seeing the man’s face and its whole scheming look. 

Shivers ran down Arthur for the first time in so many weeks of not hearing his manager’s voice again, it was almost unnerving and downright terrifying, his voice was still, as ever, dripping with the same venom that Arthur had wanted to escape for six years. 

“The issue is that this has gotten too far out of hand and I would just like to keep it in check.” The man’s own American accent sounded harsh to Arthur, but kind to anyone else without a trained ear. 

“This pertaining to your earlier statement?” Another reporter asked, sticking a microphone of their own into the speaker's face. 

“Indeed.” He finished and was pulled down the line to answer more questions. The screen then switched back to a smaller screen that was in a studio with two female news anchors. 

“The well known manager of Actor Arthur Kirkland had put out a statement the day before addressing his side of this issue regarding his expulsion and charges set against him by Kirkland. Nobody knows exactly what charges have been put on him or why Kirkland is so keen on getting rid of him, but it is known that Arthur had changed management due to these circumstances. The statement put out by his manager is a detailed expose as to why he thinks this may be.” A brunette reporter with a purple dress said, looking toward the screen and to the blonde sitting beside her at the table nodding and pretending to listen. 

“To any viewers who haven’t seen this, take a look...” The blonde stated, moving to the side so that the camera could zoom into another useless video of the manager talking nonsense. 

“You think you know why Arthur Kirkland switched management?” Some random person in a conference center asked. 

“Of course.” Arthur’s manager’s voice sniffed, pausing, “He hadn’t pay me for months and instead of paying for my work and time he left so he wouldn’t have to. I had also caught him a few times with other people, most likely sleeping with them instead of doing his job and working on the roles I worked so hard to get him.” The manager finished.

Arthur’s mouth had dropped open, Alfred had pulled Peter toward him to cover the young boy's ears and eyes so that he couldn’t see or hear what the man on the screen was saying. Alfred looked toward Arthur, who was staring wide eyed at the screen half in disbelief and despair. 

“It goes on from there but those are just the logistics.” The blonde said after the camera switched so that it was on them again. 

“But do you really think that Arthur would do that?” The Brunette asked skeptically, “Because I’ve met him and he was lovely.” She said, looking toward the camera almost like she was talking to Arthur himself, and then looked back at her blonde coworker, who had a different look of skepticism. 

“Why wouldn’t he? We haven’t heard from Arthur for weeks now, and there have been several paparazzi shots taken of him and Alfred Jones, who we all know has more than enough money to go around, and he is not afraid to show it. Plus, Arthur’s manager seemed incredibly broken up about the whole situation.” 

“I do think there might be something more. Who knows? Arthur could be more broken up about other things other than getting another manager. Did you see the videos and pictures of them in New York?” The brunette stated. 

“Whatever the case, I don’t think anything will be apparent until the press conference on Monday.” The blonde in pink inquired. 

“Speaking of which, stay tuned for a live broadcasting of the conference on Monday evening at three.” 

“Now more on the weather for next–” A completely different news anchor started after the other two had ended. Arthur had already grabbed the remote before the male weather reporter could finish his sentence. Alfred had then taken his hands off Peter’s ears and walked to the other side of the couch where Arthur was standing. The Brit threw down the small remote on the couch, making a straight b-line for the bedroom again. Peter, meanwhile, sat scared and confused as to why Alfred left him in the living room and went after Arthur. Occasionally, Alfred tried to grab Arthur’s hand to reassure the blonde that nothing terrible is going to happen, but every time he caught his hand Arthur would reject him and drag his own hand away from Alfred, who was still following him. 

Arthur was unable to shut Alfred outside of the door as he went straight for the other end of the room, “Everybody is going to believe that rubbish now!” 

“No, they’re not.” Alfred sighed, shutting the door behind him. 

“Yes, Alfred, they are!” Arthur worried, not turning to look at Alfred yet, not knowing if he actually could. 

“You heard what the one news lady said, not everyone does, obviously. Plus, all that shit that he said isn’t believable anyway.” Alfred tried moving so that he stood on the opposite side of Arthur, dumping himself onto the bed that Arthur was currently standing next to and looking down at his feet. 

“Not everyone knows that.” Arthur reasoned. “Marc could kick me off set for this, or, what if my family or had Peter had heard it? They would never trust me to take care of him and he is the only one who actually thinks I am not a bloody awful person who left his family for something he could never make it in.” Arthur hyperventilated. 

“So? Who cares? We can tell em’ what they wanted to know at the press conference.” Alfred said, sitting up from his position on bed and grabbing Arthur by the waist, pulling him down to comfort the bent out of shape Brit.

“I suppose you’re right.” Arthur laid his head down on Alfred’s chest to try and regulate his breathing again. He convinced himself that there would definitely be a chance for him to prove his ex-manager wrong and hopefully end this whole debacle for good. 

For the rest of the weekend, even after the scare on the telly, the three still decided to head out of the Hills and into the city to show Peter what he had been missing in England. Peter was ecstatic to see new things and even more excited to be walking through the city as he sat atop Alfred’s shoulders to get the best view. In order to keep the boy on his shoulders, one of Alfred’s hands held on to the boy’s ankle and the other unashamedly held Arthur’s smaller hand. Both knew that eyes were watching them wherever they went, but frankly it didn’t really matter. 

**_____**

Monday. 

Kiku met Alfred, Arthur, and a lot of the other cast members at a large hotel conference room just downtown. The conference was supposed to be entirely about the movie but it was obvious from the moment they got there that people were itching to ask about Alfred, Arthur, and the manager's statement. 

Upon walking in, there was a large table that stretched from one half of the room to the other in the front of the room. There was a screen directly behind it and the chairs sat right next to each other perfectly, it was lined with bottles of water, one for each person. 

The room itself was mostly bland with plain white walls and dark flooring, besides for the table and all of the chairs, everything was empty. Some of the set up crew was leading the newly arrived actors to their name tagged seats at the table. When they made it to the room, Marc, Gilbert, Ludwig, and Feliciano were already there and sitting a few seats apart from each other. When the two actors walked into the room and were shown to their seats, Marc stood up making his presence known as well as the fact that he wanted to talk to them. 

“I could fire you for this.” Marc said harshly, not blinking an eye and looking straight into Arthur’s green ones. 

“I can explain ever–” Arthur tried but was hushed by Marc. 

“But I am not going to.” Marc stopped for a second, put a hand on his head and rubbed his temples, “We’ve worked together before and nothing about this ‘story’ seems like you. I know that there is another side to this and it  _ will _ come up during this interview. I trust you and know that you probably wouldn’t do something like this for attention or for your own gain, but if I hear otherwise I won’t hesitate to pull the plug on your part in this movie.” 

Arthur nodded and let Alfred pull out a chair for him, he took a seat in it, silent until the actual unnerving conference started. Alfred occasionally said something or held Arthur’s hand under the table, anything to make Arthur not worry so much, but the Brit didn’t budge and just hoped that the worst wouldn’t come. 

Within the hour, Marc started out introducing the panel and tables lined with people. The table had name tags set up near the bottles of water, knowing the status of some of the actors, most found it useless to introduce the people at the table.

“Questions can be anything from the up and coming film to things that are popular in the news.” Marc stood looking over to Arthur, who was staring at the table in front of him, one of his hands was still under the table holding tightly to Alfred’s. 

“Let’s begin.” There was a wave of people shuffling around and papers moving so that journalists could write everything that was said and turn it into gossip and questionable articles later. 

Marc sat and looked out into the crowd looking through the many raised hands in the room, he pointed to one of them, the young journalist stood up and started speaking. 

“From where you are now, how long do you think it will take before the release date on the movie?” A lady in a pantsuit asked. 

“For now, if there are no complications, it should be done in the next two or three months.” The producer, who was sitting on the left side of Marc, said.

“Your Mum is going to be happy.” Arthur whispered to Alfred deciding that Alfred’s presence was already comforting enough. It also helped that the first question was simple and not targeted. Alfred laughed trying not to put attention on himself and Arthur. 

“This is specifically addressed to Mr. Kirkland.” A woman in a short dress, who was obviously part of a fashion coverage somewhere, asked once she was picked. Arthur’s heart felt like it had fallen to his stomach before she started talking, “Your part was supposed to be played by a woman, correct? How was the feminine clothing accommodated for you?” 

“I would say that this is more of a question for a designer, but most of them were modified for my body. However, regardless of the costumes being altered, I do have to deal with some of the painfully tighter costumes.” Arthur said, more comfortable now that he knew it wasn’t one of the questions that would be addressing the elephant in the room. It seemed as if nobody had the courage to ask such a thing yet. 

The next questions were ones that involved the New York show and other details that happened that very name evening. 

“Did you know at the beginning of the day that you were going to tell the world that you were together?” A younger male reporter asked. 

“Yes, actually.” Alfred answered, tilting his microphone a little so he could be heard more in the back even though his voice was already very loud. 

“How so?” He followed up. 

“It was a surprise for my Mom because she wouldn’t stop bugging us about it.” Alfred answered with a smile as he remembered his mother’s face when he saw her for the first time again after the show. There were a few ‘awes’ from within the press room. But the reporter would never know what, specifically, Alfred’s mother was bugging them about. 

There were a few more statements and descriptions given to some questions that were asked as well as some interesting facts that happened as they were filming. 

The room had questions for the entirety of the table, some of the answers were hilarious while others were answered honestly and seriously. The group had been answering questions from the entirety of the room each person getting questions more than once. Arthur had thought that he had gotten off the hook as questions that regarded the news broadcastings were not brought up, until Marc called for final questions. 

“We have about ten minutes left so any last questions, comments, or concerns?” Marc asked looking around the room, there were quite a few hands that continued to go up quickly and then a few that went up hesitantly. Marc called on someone random as they stood to speak. Arthur knew it was coming, they all knew it was, so Arthur tried his best to try and excuse himself but the same blonde that had been on the television a few days ago sharing her own opinion had stood up and addressed Arthur specifically. He stopped his attempt to get up when Alfred tugged at his sleeve and gave him a look that read, “You can explain for them”. Arthur was terrified and his face went a paler shade that read, “I can’t”. Reluctantly, he sat down and Alfred continued to hold tight to his hand. Nobody seemed to notice. 

“I think the majority is wondering what your situation is with your manager, Mr. Kirkland. Why would you just leave him without paying?” The blonde asked snarkily, getting a few looks from people around the room, some looked like they thought she was over exaggerating, and some looked like they thought she was right. Arthur was frozen and hadn’t had a clue of what to do. 

Alfred took over. 

“Everything that Arthur’s old manager said was bullshit.” Alfred said, simply eyeing the blonde who asked the question and shot a look over to Arthur, who was silent but probably thinking about something. 

“How are we all supposed to know that?” She asked strictly, clearly surprised by the tone she received from Alfred. 

There was a pause and a look between Arthur and Alfred, “I switched managers for an entirely different reason, the man got his pay and I excused myself from a bad situation. Are we quite done now?” There were multiple people writing down word for word what Arthur had just said, including the blonde. However, she wasn’t finished. 

“No, we are not. Your manager, or ex-manager I should say, said that you had been sleeping around. Tell us about that?” 

Arthur rolled his eyes, “As Alfred had expressed before, it is just blatantly untrue. Just another cause to get back at me for not putting up with his treachery and maltreatment anymore.” 

The room broke into whispers and speculation, even the blonde stopped for a second, “There is no way to prove that.” 

All eyes were on the middle of the table, more definitely, Arthur and Alfred. The whole room could tell that there was another reason that was being hidden. Marc leaned over to Arthur, who was sitting directly next to him, with Alfred on the other side of Arthur. 

Marc covered the microphone with his hand, “This doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Alfred wouldn’t lace up the corset correctly, does it?” Marc whispered into Arthur’s ear, not allowing him to respond to the group that they were sat in front of. Arthur felt his jaw tense, he brought a delicate hand to cover his mouth and nodded reluctantly. The look on Marc’s face was disturbed, he pulled away and sat for a few seconds, contemplating on whether or not to end the meeting early, or allow Arthur make the decision regarding his circumstances. 

Arthur thought for a moment, it had been a minute or two since he left the room on thin ice, one wrong move and it felt as if they would all plunge into cold water. In his eyes he had two options: Tell the bloody room what they wanted to know and clear his name against something his previous manager said, or option two; he could stay quiet and risk never being considered for another role in a movie again because of something that his manager said to ruin everything he had worked for. Considering the latter made Arthur feel like he was giving up and succumbing to everyone who ever told him that what he wanted to do was impossible, it made it seem like his manager would win. But could he honestly bring himself to tell a room full of people he knew, and people he didn’t know, about the darkest portion of his entire life?

Yes. 

“By treachery and maltreatment I mean that six years ago I was introduced to a man who promised me that he would do his job as best he could and fulfill the pay I promised to give him when I made my first paycheck from a film he assisted in getting me. He had gotten it, but I’d found he wanted more.” Arthur paused, recalling memories that he had long buried for the sake is his dignity. He had only ever told one person about the past six years of his life, and that one person was sitting right next to him preparing to take over the whole story if he needed to and then some. But for now he sat with a strong arm around the back of Arthur’s chair. The room, for the time being, had gone completely still, waiting for the rest of the story. 

“It started six months after I’d hired him. When I said he wanted more I meant that he wanted money, sex, and other things that I would certainly not supply him. Needless to say he was not happy with my decision not to indulge him and took it upon himself, exactly a year later, to start harming me.” Arthur struggled, trying to keep everything at a moderate level of explicitness, hating the fact that he was making it apparent with his back that some form of abuse had occurred by not leaning back all the way in his chair. 

The room was still silent and stunned, a few were rubbing their hands near their eyes, pretending that there weren’t tears coming out of them while others sat still, even the blonde who had been questioning everything stopped and sat down, knowing that she no longer had any power. 

“I don’t mean to pry, but how did you get out of it? Is it all still there?” The blonde asked, more sympathetic and regretful. Even though it was obvious to the room that Arthur was uncomfortable she still pressed on. Arthur looked to Alfred and tucked his head near Alfred’s ear, whispering for him to carry on instead. Alfred could hear the pain in his wavering, accented voice.

Alfred breathed heavily, holding Arthur in a way he knew wouldn’t bother him, “You could say it ended when we met on set, or just after that, I guess. He told me and I offered for him to stay with me. From that point he started living away from his house, where his manager was also living at the time. Arthur also told me that whenever he went to the police they never attempted to do anything about it.” 

“As for if ‘it’ is still there, uh, it is. It’s takin’ its sweet to heal.” Alfred summed up, earning a few nods from people in the crowd even as they continued to write things down. 

“Can you show us?” Somebody random from the crowd asked. Alfred looked to Arthur, the blonde just shrugged and started to peel off the shirt that he had put on that morning. Normally he would’ve never done such a thing but the damage had been done and everything was hard to bear without the added weight of people still not understanding. He felt that he had to do anything to clear his image, he had too much to lose if his career ended, everything he worked for would have been in vain. 

Alfred helped lightly pull the garment off of Arthur and set it on the table while everyone watched with intrigue, waiting for the new evidence to disclose itself. There was a few seconds before Arthur actually turned around so that the room could see his back instead of his bruised torso, Alfred was standing behind him gently pulling off all of the bandages that would reveal the masterpiece of red slashes, bruises, and scarring that littered Arthur’s pale back.

The whole room gasped, falling silent enough to hear a pin drop from the next building over. Soon after Arthur threw his dress shirt on again and asked to leave, nobody denied it. Alfred paused, lovingly putting his arm around Arthur and kissing him in the head, letting go when his and Arthur’s security team came to take Arthur out of the building. Alfred watched as Arthur walked out of the silent room.

In the end, Marc dismissed the conference and took Alfred under his arm for a second, “You and Arthur can take the week off.” Alfred nodded and jogged off of the elevated stage and out the front door that Arthur had escaped out of a few minutes prior. 

Alfred found Arthur standing next to the dark limousine with a party of security guards around him. 

“Is everything okay?” Arthur asked, he had regained his composure and let a security guard open the car door, sliding into the seat with Alfred following. Once they were in Alfred took a proper look at Arthur’s face and brought a hand level to clear off some tears that had formed in the midst of it all. 

“It did. You were very brave, Artie. Plus, we get the week off.” 

“Well, I suppose that is lovely.” Arthur sighed, scooting himself closer to Alfred, who had put his arm across the back of the seats again, allowing Arthur room to sit comfortably. 

Without the excitement of the studio the week passed fairly slowly. Peter, of course, kept the two busy but not doing their jobs was making the two restless, and then there was the constant begging of Peter, who desperately wanted to see the studio that they were so anxious to get to. 

So on a random Thursday afternoon they packed Peter and themselves into one of Alfred’s cars and headed to the studio that was expecting them on the following Monday. Either way, nobody that they passed had thought it was strange that they were back and greeted them normally. Best yet, they treated Arthur like they had heard nothing and that nothing was wrong, some of course said a few things, but never treated him any differently. 

In fact, once they walked into the main auditorium Marc seemed frantic and delighted. When he was finally close enough to talk to the two he was already rambling in a state of panic. 

“I know I told you two to take the week off but this is urgent and it is a miracle that you came here when you did because some footage that we were going to use for the movie were muted by the audience and the sound crew is having problems drowning it out with the computers.” Marc ranted nervously, “Meaning that we have to refilm it before next week so we can put it all together in the long process of finishing the movie. And I know I gave you the week off because of what’s happened to Arthur but we need to finish this.” 

“Okay.” Alfred replied, preparing himself to go put on the costumes that were needed to finish the last dancing scene in the movie. 

“Wait, that’s it? You are not at all concerned for Arthur’s, uh, wounds, er, whatever is going on?” Marc stuttered. 

“No, I’ve dealt with it for long enough.” Arthur assured and followed Alfred up the steeper part of the stairs only turning back to give Peter, who was being held, to Marc who seemed very confused and the other two rushed up the dressing rooms. 

Marc reluctantly took Peter to the director's chair that was sat next to his own in front of the camera, it was usually reserved for Arthur and his expertise, but it would have to suffice for now. 

In a matter of minutes Alfred and Arthur were standing in front of the stage, waiting for their cue to get onto the stage and finish the last scene that was drowned out. Since the show’s ending was different from the films ending they had to fix the dance scene and the actual ending to fit the two intentionally different plots. 

Peter was awe-struck as he saw his older brother walk behind some curtains and disappear until some music that came from the orchestra, that was set in its original space, started playing. Arthur was decked out in some red and white flowy outfit that drifted whenever he walked from one side of the stage to the other, or when he was lifted into the air by the armada of back up dancers. 

Alfred came into the scene a few minutes later and had Arthur in his arms within five minutes. He started off standing in the seats and away from the stage like he did in the show and slowly made his way toward the stage when Arthur started singing. By the time the song came to a conclusion, Arthur was in his arms only to fall to the floor a bit later, the camera only showed him and Alfred’s sobbing figure. Soon the whole stage was cleared besides for the two, the rest of the actors stood behind the camera watching the display, when Arthur finally opened his eyes and looked into Alfred’s. The American’s character was surprised and relieved, the camera closed in on them more when Arthur leaned up to whisper something in Alfred’s ear that would be edited in later, he received a nod and a choked laugh from the American actor. Marc called cut and then asked for the very last scene to start.

The outfit had only been finished for the last scene on Tuesday but were elegant, gilded, and posh, making it obvious as to why they took so long to complete. The last scene had been rewritten multiple times by all different people, once being Alfred and Arthur, twice the producer and the rest of the work being Marc’s own, until it was completed and perfect as a scene. But the setting was more difficult, they would start the scene in a different studio made apartment and continue their way from there. It was a fairly vague and slow scene, instead it was mostly visuals and a few voice overs and words said here and there and in between. 

Finally, Marc called for a wrap on the production.

However, he did ask all of the actors to stay in the area and refrain from travel while the movie is still in the editing process. There would be roughly three months of editing and piecing together before the premiere of the movie. During editing, though, the director might find something that they want to add or take something out and refilm something else, therefore it is vital to keep the actors around the area and set. 

When the crew finally got their break they all lounged in the theater chairs, while some hummed the remains of the song they just finished. Peter came waddling up to Arthur, who was debating on if he would even be able to pick up the boy while wearing a corset, he decided that it might be possible and tried it in the different approach. Peter was then easily set on the stiffer part of Arthur’s torso and hip to keep the boy up. 

“Your job is the coolest!” Peter grinned, testing out how the word ‘coolest’ sounded on his tongue, all thanks to Alfred most likely.. 

Arthur nodded and smiled, “You are going to sound like a right old American by the time you leave here.” 

“But I don’t wanna leave.” Peter whined, having his fun ruined by the idea of having to leave such an amazing and big place. 

“You don’t have to right yet, love. I can tell you that there is plenty more time.” Arthur reassured the boy, who looked as if he were about to sob, “But if you keep causing anymore trouble I may have to repeal my statement.” Arthur huffed, giggling a little when he remembered how during the main singing part, Peter had climbed out of his seat and pulled himself up the stairs to the stage and started trying to do what Arthur was doing. Marc hadn’t stopped immediately because he was starstruck by the boy and let him do whatever he wanted while the rest of the crew played along only to have to redo the whole scene over again. 

“Okay! I promise I won’t, Arthur!” Peter said, recreating Arthur’s earlier face. The British man was just about to set Peter down again when Alfred came bounding into view and scooped Peter up instead. 

“Guess what we're doing, little man?” Alfred asked cheerfully. 

“I dunno.” Peter laughed as he tried to do Alfred’s American accent. 

“Artie and I are gonna show you around the studio because I recall you saying you wanted to do that, right?” Alfred grinned, Arthur rolled his eyes and found it almost scary how well Alfred got along with children, though he probably was still one in some regards. 

Peter smiled and let Alfred set him on the ground so that they could have a race to the nearest door as Arthur followed along like an old man, but to be fair he was still in full costume that wasn’t as nearly as comfortable as what Alfred was wearing. Feliciano saw and trailed along because he wanted to, besides, Peter was overjoyed at the addition. EIther way, even with Arthur trailing around like an old man, Peter loved every minute of it. 

At some point, Arthur and Alfred knew that they would be sad to see the boy go. 


	21. "I know this whole damned city thinks it needs you, but not as much as I do."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the slower part ended and the minute long guitar solo started Gilbert quickly pecked Matthew on the cheek and hopped back onto stage trailing down the length of the catwalk in a dramatic slide, finishing the medley and running off the stage when the lights all went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from The Last of the Real Ones by Fall Out Boy
> 
> I am fully aware of how much FOB is being used for this ff but I really enjoy them and a lot of their lyrics really speak volumes tbh. lit. 
> 
> Dunno If Anyone in this chaotic fandom loves Prussia as much as I do, but wowie what a dude, Im I right??

**Chapter Twenty-one: Weeks Over**

Just as predicted, there were parts that needed editing and even some redoing until the movie was to be completed. 

Since coming to the studio for the first time, Peter decided that he would come every time after that as well. Needless to say he was more than happy to sit him in Arthur’s directors chair, and the rest of the staff was positively enamoured with him. 

However, at the end of the third week that Peter had been in California the journey ended, which also meant an end to his time as Marc’s temporary co-director. 

The three were sitting in the living room with the television blasting a show that Alfred had introduced to Peter. It was one of Alfred’s old musical shows or something of the sort. Regardless, Peter loved it and sang along with

Alfred as he and Arthur stood on the sturdy coffee table as if it were a stage.

During this, the loud doorbell rang. Alfred was the first one off the couch, skipping over to the door hoping it was the take-out they ordered a few minutes earlier. In the back of his brain he knew that it was way too fast for the delivery to be there already. 

Alfred opened the door to see a sunburnt ginger and Arthur’s mom. There was a look of pure awe and surprise from the two when he answered the door. 

“Hey Arthur?” Alfred called when he saw them at the door, the butler had then taken the door from Alfred and led the two in instead as Alfred made his way back to the living room where Arthur and Peter were still dancing on the coffee table. 

“Artie, your parents are here.” Alfred said quietly, both sad about the little Brit leaving and how Arthur’s parents came on such a fun day.

“Oh? Oh.” Was all Arthur said, while Peter looked up at him from his place on the table. 

Alfred walked past the couch, as Arthur’s parents were led into the large house from the entryway, Alfred grabbed Arthur by the waist and lifted him off the table and going back for Peter, who giggled when he was lifted into the air but stopped when he was going to run to the kitchen and saw Alice and Oliver. The parents were happy to see him, but Peter just turned and started crying and hugging Arthur’s leg. 

“I will take him to pack his things, excuse me.” Arthur addressed and picked the boy up, even though he was more than capable of walking, and took him to the second room down the hall past the bathroom, leaving Alfred to awkwardly stand in the same room as Gerald the butler, and Alice and Oliver, who wouldn’t stop looking around. 

“If this your vacation home?” Alice asked, looking back to Alfred who sat on the back of the expensive couch. 

“Uh no. It’s just Arthur’s and my house.” Alfred nodded awkwardly, shifting on the back of the couch. 

“You live here?” Oliver asked, “It was impossible to find it without the driver.” His posh english accent sounded like an old film that may have had an old british King. 

Alfred didn’t know what exactly to say, so the American just nodded and motioned for them to sit down while he went to go and see what was supposedly taking Arthur and Peter so long. 

When Arthur opened the door to the room Peter was sitting on the bed and Arthur was kneeling on the floor in front of him, holding his hands. Arthur was talking in a low tone to Peter, while the younger blue eyed kid sniffled and nodded with everything Arthur said. 

“You can come back whenever you’d like for summer holiday.” Arthur concluded and gave the smaller boy a smile and a pat on the head before lifting him off the bed and letting him grab his things. Arthur rolled Peter’s case out of the room, but they were only able to continue out after Peter hugged Alfred for a long while. Only then did he finally run to his parents. 

Alice and Oliver casually said their goodbyes and that they would see them both on TV until next time. 

**_____**

The day after, everything went back to normal. 

It had been two days since Kiku was officially signed as Arthur’s manager and was continuously setting up auditions for the two of them. Some were at the same place for the two leading roles and others were in different studios that had nothing to do with each other, seeing as there were quite a few studios that wanted both of them. There had also been offers to do more shows in New York. 

Things for a while had also heated up around the topic of Arthur, but slowed down again when more people realised that he was truthful and that his previous manager refused to say anything else on the matter because it would likely incriminate him. 

The trailer for the film had been put out and the actors were being called to interview after interview and photoshoot after photoshoot. Most of the actors on set came to the agreement that everything was ridiculously busy and, at some points, overwhelming. But if you asked anyone of them they wouldn’t change it for the world. 

**_____**

During this time, the entirety of the cast had stuck around just as asked, but in the middle of the first month Marc called them all down the conference room to propose an idea. 

“The production studio has agreed to do a few months of shows, and if all of you give the okay then we leave as soon as the weekend, which is–uh–tomorrow.” Marc informed, standing above everyone again. It was true that the first show was a hit and gave the studio and the theater a hefty sum of cash for other uses, such as camera’s or costumes. 

Everyone who had seen the show the first time was immediately enamoured by it, and apparently word spread. 

The majority of the cast was completely in on the idea, some of the background dancers knew they wouldn’t be able to make it into New York and do a month's worth of shows.

“Just to be clear, these shows are not going to be centered into one area, the studio has plans to go to different stages around the country and work our way back to California.” The producer added. 

There were a few looks around the room and some talking and whispering. 

“If you are sure that you cannot do some shows, your understudies will fill in.” Marc said tapping his chin as if he was thinking or needing to add anything else. 

Eventually, the room came to an agreement. 

Just as expected, the next day after they had packed everything they needed, a plane was at their usual airport, the one they always took off from. The up and coming shows would start a day after so everyone could get set up in New York again before the unexpected second show of the production. Since the studio was able to make the show and the film different from each other, yet enjoyable to watch, it would be fine to do both and make the studio’s money with both productions as well as more people that would be able to see it. 

Throughout the entirety of the plane ride, Alfred was on the phone with Amelia, who was most likely bouncing off the walls with everything that Alfred was saying. Marc, having met the woman at the first show and had learned about how she had become obsessed with the story, had sent the Jones family free tickets. 

Throughout the first show, somethings were the same including the fact that Alfred did all of the stuntman work to catch Arthur instead and the fact that they still participated in the tango with Feliciano and Ludwig. The German and Italian, by this point, had it down, but Alfred and Arthur enjoyed the dance enough to take on the extra workload, regardless of if they were needed or not. 

There was one thing different for Arthur, though, and that was the constant feeling of being watched. He had thought that he was just being paranoid and told himself it was only Alfred trying getting the best view of his ass instead of getting ready to get on the stage, however, it was only during shows that he couldn’t shake the feeling. It wasn’t the normal feeling of being watched on stage, but a pointed, almost malicious, stare that constantly put the Brit on edge. 

Amelia and Allen had joined them for all of the shows in Manhattan until they finished up and moved to another large city. It was almost as if they were following the exact geography that Oliver and Alice followed during their American tour before picking up Peter in California. 

As they all continued into Chicago, Arthur continued to feel like there was somebody in particular staring up at him from in the crowd, but he had always been too anxious to look out into the crowd and see. 

It had been the second month of tours when it finally stopped, there were requests for a few shows in the Southern states, which put them slightly off course before they all found themselves in Las Vegas, much to Gilbert’s and Alfred’s delight. 

“You gotta come with us, Artie!” Alfred begged, when he was fixing his clothing in front of the hotel mirror. 

“And where might you be going?” Arthur leaned against the wall that was leading out the door of the hotel room. 

“Gil and I were going to go to the strip or do some other Vegas things.” Alfred grinned. 

“That's awfully vague, love.” Arthur replied, turning around and flopping down onto the large king sized bed that sat in the middle of the room. He lied on his back, sighed, and waved Alfred off to do whatever he wanted to do, however, the American stopped and turned back to Arthur as he wiggled around for a second grabbing at the end of his nightshirt. Arthur figured his plan was working when Alfred fully turned around toward him and tugged at his collar.

With all of the excitement of the production and the constant lights and cameras in their faces as well as Arthur’s constant paranoia of someone around them at times, there had been a minimum amount of time for the two to spend with each other. Now seemed like an excellent time, other than the fact that Gilbert would be there in an hour. But what did being late one time matter when they almost always went out with friends anyway?

“A shame really...” Arthur sucked in a breath when Alfred threw his newly acquired tie onto the floor and climbed over Arthur, pressing little kisses along the side of his neck. 

“What?” Alfred lowered his voice because of Arthur’s hand placement near the belt buckle of Alfred’s pants. 

“You looked so charming in your etire, but you look nice without the clothing too, I suppose.” Arthur sighed, almost whining by the end of the sentence as a result the belt that was proving hard to unbuckle. At the same time, Alfred kept teasing him, he tilted his head back against the pillow and let Alfred do what he consensually wanted.

“Aw, thanks Art, you do too.” Alfred beamed, pressing a kiss to Arthur’s lips and feeling Arthur’s long eyelashes flutter shut against the side of his cheek. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere, love.” Arthur breathed, laughing. 

“Oh really?” Alfred smirked, grabbing Arthur’s sides and flipping them so Arthur was sitting on him again to make it easier to get all of the clothing off. Once all garments were off from both humans, after an unhealthy amount of lip crashing, Alfred flipped them again so he was on top of Arthur with the Brit’s legs spread so that they could easily wrap around Alfred’s hips. 

“I supposed that I am not always right,” Arthur gasped, reaching up to capture Alfred’s lips and tug him down by the neck, breathing heavily, “It will get you somewhere.” 

The rest of their escapades were exceptional, the loud sound of their night-time activities was even enough to block out the sound of knocking on the door. On the other hand, the other side was a different, more awkward, story. See, Gilbert, who had arrived earlier than the agreed upon time, was standing outside the door trying not to listen in before turning to leave, knowing that Alfred had better things to do. Still, it was only nine and Vegas doesn’t really have a bedtime, therefore they could go whenever they wanted. 

Instead, while the two did that, he called Alfred’s brother. 

“Birdie~” Gilbert rang, sing-talking when the Canadian answered. 

“What the heck, Gil?” Matthew asked, picking up the phone. 

“Where are you?” Gilbert questioned, hating to sound clingy but he just wanted somebody to hang out with and he was just hoping that Matthew's team was playing closeby. 

“ Pekwachnamaykoskwaskwaypinwanik.” The Canadian pronounced perfectly, hearing the utter confusion in Gilbert’s voice. 

“Gesundheit.” Gilbert expressed, “But where?” 

“God, Gilbert you are so clingy. Toronto.” The hockey player answered honestly. 

“But it’s almost the weekend.” Gilbert pouted. 

“What about Alfred and Mathias? Francis, Antonio?” Mathew asked, having been sleeping when Gilbert called. 

“Alfred and Arthur are, uh, busy, so are Mathias and Antonio, and honestly everyone is scared to hang with Franny alone.” Gilbert complained, shuffling down the hall. 

“What was that about Franny and being alone together?” Francis examined, sticking his head out of his suite door and looking at Gilbert with a smirk. If Gilbert dared to actually look at the man he would see that Francis was wearing a robe that wasn’t even close to being tied together. 

“Gehen Sie saugen ein Würstchen Schnitzel.” Gilbert simply said and continued walking and talking to Matthew.

“You're probably right.” Matthew agreed, he was now up and walking around his Toronto apartment. It seemed sensible to the Candian to buy an apartment there as it is where his home team was from. At this time, he had started looking at flights to Vegas since tomorrow was Friday after all, “I’ll just call Alfred and scare him half to death.” 

“Tried that.” Gilbert sighed, as this was an un-awesome experience. Frankly he was bored, stood up, and his only entertainment was talking long distance to Mattie. 

“But I’m his brother, he’ll have to answer me. Give me a sec, Gill.” Matthew assured. 

“Ja, whatever.” 

“I should have Eliza hit you with her pan for being sassy.” Matthew scolded, earning a gasp from the German.

“You wouldn’t! How did you know she did that?” Gilbert leaned against the hallway wall that had made a circle all the way back around to Alfred and Arthur’s room. Thankfully the loud noises had stopped. 

“It’s in pictures in the news, it’s kinda funny. By the way how’s Arthur?” Matthew treaded lightly, using his home phone to call Alfred so that it would show up under their Mom’s name. The caller ID had been some weird screw up that the phone company had made and hadn’t changed, besides it was helpful for times such as this. 

“Normal, you should ask him.” Gilbert suggested, being the slightest bit mad at the fact that the two were having more fun than he was right now. 

In the room a few doors down the majority of the friction had died down leaving the other two in a heavily breathing heap. Alfred had collapsed on Arthur’s bare chest, fighting to keep his now worn out eyes open. 

“What time is it?” Alfred asked, not bothering to open his eyes and look around for himself. 

“Five minutes to ten.” Arthur replied, finding the interest on the bedside table clock. Alfred opened his eyes now that he had gained some of his youthful energy back, this time he looked around and up into Arthur’s green eyes, then back to his torso. 

“Wonder if Gil’s here yet?” Alfred sat up a little, but laid back down when he figured there was no use in sitting up. 

“I would hope not with all of the noise you were making.” Arthur nagged. 

“I recall it being vise-versa, Artie.” Alfred smirked, unconsciously tracing the leftover white scars of old cuts and healing flesh that littered Arthur’s stomach, chest, arms, back, and legs. It was everywhere, some places torn up from worse than others and some so small that they were not worth noting. There were some days where Arthur despised looking at himself, because to him everything single cut was visible to him. Somehow, Alfred was able to overlook all of it and just focus in on all of the better things instead of those that didn’t matter anymore. 

“I–” Arthur was about to say something when Alfred’s phone on the side of the bed rang alerting them of a call from what the caller ID said was ‘Mommy’. 

Alfred, who was halfway on top of Arthur and was minding the weight he was putting on the Englishman, leaned over and took the phone from its place on the charger before sliding the button to unlock the phone and accept the call. 

“Mom?” Alfred asked, sitting up. Arthur sat up with him and attached himself to Alfred’s back, pressing little kisses to his back and neck while Alfred listened through the phone. 

“Ha, you thought.” Matthew's voice rang through the phone. 

“It said Mom’s ID though...” Alfred twisted his brows in a confused fashion, even Arthur seemed a bit perplexed as he sat behind Alfred holding onto his back like a young koala. 

“Nevermind that. I was calling to say that, one: Gilbert is outside your door. Two: I’ll be in Las Vegas tomorrow around noon, but don’t tell Gil. And Three: he wants to know if you're done so you and he can leave now, eh? ” Matthew spilt out in one giant word vomit. 

“Uh, how long has he been there?” Alfred felt the rise of heat in his cheeks. 

“Long enough.” Matthew concluded.

“I won’t tell him that you are coming, but why not? Also you can tell him that we are still going tonight? I just need to, uh, redress.” Alfred stuttered out, almost wondering if Gilbert could hear them talking about him on the other side of the door, and just dying to know why Matthew was not going to tell him that he was going. 

There was some shuffling and speaking on the other line and then some more out in the hallway before Matthew started speaking again, “I just want it to be a surprise, and I just got tickets from your director for the Vegas showing.” 

“Cool, little bro. I’m gonna hang up now because I don’t have clothes on.” 

“Thanks for the information, Al.” Matthew cringed on the other line, at the same time finding it weird that that was the way that they were leaving their phone call off at. The call ended and Alfred stood up quickly, running around to gather his clothing, knowing that Arthur had heard everything from his convenient place behind Alfred. He knew what was going on and still opted for staying alone in the hotel room to watch whatever program came on the television. 

In a turn of events, almost forty or so minutes after Alfred had found Gilbert in the hallway and they left the hotel, Arthur started feeling it again. The strange feeling of being watched or having someone invisible constantly looking over your shoulder to monitor your every move. He thought he might go crazy if he kept to himself inside the all the large master suite. 

Arthur had considered turning up the volume on the TV or calling Feliciano or Elizabeta. Hell, he would’ve even called Francis, if it meant he wasn’t alone. Tonight though, luck just so happened to be on his side. 

On the other side of the bed his own phone started to ring. It was rare for him to get actual messages or calls from people especially this late at night. Arthur thought it was most likely Alfred texting him something in American gibberish. The caller ID said otherwise. 

Arthur pulled the white sheets up on his chest, turned down the volume on the telly, he took a peek out the window to see if he would see what was watching him, before clicking the green answer button on the screen that displayed the caller ID of his own Mother’s phone. 

“Hello?” Arthur asked shyly, finding it weird that his distant mother would call him so late at night, especially in England where it was nearly three in the morning. 

“Arthur?” It was Peter’s small voice on the other end. The boy’s accent sounded small and tired like he hadn’t slept in days, and though Arthur was never a parent it made the instincts in him spike as he sat up in his own bed, becoming more immersed in the conversation. 

“What is it, Peter? Are you alright?” Arthur requested, concerned. He momentarily wondered how Peter had even found the phone. 

“Uh huh, but I can’t sleep and I miss how you told stories. Mum and Dad are not as good at it as you are.” Peter explained. The tension that Arthur has built up and all of the scenarios that he had planned for were set aside as he sighed in relief. 

“I suppose I can help with that.” Arthur smiled, even though he knew subconsciously that Peter couldn’t even see him. 

“Thank you, Arthur!” Peter whisper-yelled, “I was afraid to ask at first but it's really hard to be sleepy without a story.” 

“Don’t be afraid to ask, love, I assure you that I am up most times.” Arthur told the boy on the other end, “Now what kind of story would you like to hear?” 

“One about the knights and princes!” Peter exclaimed, though quietly, knowing that he couldn’t be loud. 

“Don’t you mean Princess’ too?” Arthur asked, already thinking of a story in his head. 

“No.” Peter corrected. 

“Very well.” Arthur announced, having his story completely thought out unknowing of its ending though, “Once there was a prince, and there was an evil castle guard that kept the prince from leaving the castle. Whenever the prince had tried to leave the castle, he would be struck by the castle guard and scolded, but the prince wished for nothing more than to leave the castle. One day he did. He found himself in the marketplace, dancing and singing with the rest of the townsfolk until one had caught his eyes. Another man was dancing and singing in the marketplace, the two met and struck up a conversation. Soon they fell in love and whenever the evil castle guard would try to find the Prince he would run away. One day he and the man in the market had run so far that they came up a water's edge that was crowded with lovely flowers and vegetation, and something peculiar, a small boy, maybe your own age. The Prince and the man from the market decided that since the boy was alone that they would take him in and care for him, and they did. From the beginning the prince had thought that nothing had been special about him and he was always going to be trapped by the mean old castle guard, but the man from the market and the young boy had shown the Prince that everything was worth it again and that they all made everything special to him. And as far as I’ve heard until now, they lived happily ever after.” Arthur finished, he found a strange allusion to his own life and hoped that Peter would be too young and native to piece it together. Arthur just wished his life had gone as swimmingly as his made up fairytale self’s. 

He didn’t know why he suddenly had to urge to recall the story, maybe it was because Peter had mentioned his own troubles, and Arthur wanted to ease some of it. 

There was a yawn on the other end, “You should make a movie out of that.” Peter said smalley, “Thank you, Arthur.” 

“That’s alright. Now get to sleep it’s very late over there.” Arthur acutely scolded, heard a small acknowledgement and a click of the phone hanging up. 

The blonde laid back in bed again, wishing that he was able to put himself to sleep as easily as he was able to put Peter to sleep. Instead, he decided on waiting the next hour for Alfred to find his way back. Throughout the next hour the feeling of being watched didn’t go away, and not having Alfred there scared him for two reasons. One of those being that it meant that it wasn’t just Alfred staring at him twenty-four seven and the other meant that he wasn’t as safe as he would be with Alfred at his side. 

The British man ended up ordering the room service in his wait, to pass the time another way other than watching a late night talk show. Once more it happened, the feeling was back yet again, but it wasn’t around him it was in front of him on the illuminated screen. 

His manager was walking onto a set inside of the TV screen, not once did he take his eyes away from the external live camera, and not once did he mention anything that wasn’t about Arthur. 

Right when Arthur became immersed in the talk show there was a commercial, at nearly the same time the front door to the hotel suite slammed open. Alfred arrived carrying a look of fear and a concern. His first tier of business was turning the screen off and going back to shut the door lighter than from when he came strutting in. Next order of business was to get himself out of his dress clothes and sit himself in the same bed as Arthur.

“I hope you didn’t hear any of that, Arthur.” Alfred said sternly at first before faltering before saying ‘hear’. 

“I have. But nobody will believe what he says, love.” Arthur sighed patting Alfred soft blonde locks, “How did your excursion go?” 

“Fine, but once I saw your name pop up on the screen I came right back.” 

“Worried for me, were you?” Arthur teased, deciding to run his fingers through the length of Alfred’s hair that had gotten considerably longer since the time that they started the show tours. 

“‘Course I was.” Alfred whined, putting his arms around Arthur to tell him all about his and Gilbert’s night out. Which had started normally with bar hopping and random doo-dad shopping before they settled for some places that had good drinks, food, and HD TV screens.

“Sounds very stereotypical of your type.” Arthur snorted resting his head against Alfred's chest, feeling more secure in comparison to his earlier apprehension of being watched. 

“What did ya do?” Alfred slurred, signaling that he was most likely exhausted after a long day of shows, travel, sex, and bar hopping. 

“I had gotten a call from Peter, he had asked if I would tell him a story, since my Mum is still rubbish at it, apparently” Arthur spoke, more confused and intrigued as to if the child actually meant it. It was almost nice, feeling needed by a member of his family for once. 

“So it's not just the looks that got you into this business~” Alfred said sarcastically, grinning at his hilariousness. Arthur rolled his eyes and hit Alfred on his back, which was where his hand reached in the position that they had oddly chosen with Alfred laying halfway on top of Arthur like earlier. That is also how they fell asleep, though woke up in an entirely different way. 

The next day they were back to the glamorous life of showcases in Vegas, singing until they could no longer feel their throats or dancing and walking across the stage until it was impossible not stand on shaky legs, wondering if you would be able to stand in another pair of heels for the rest of your life. 

At the beginning of the third show in the same evening, Matthew had sent a quick text to Alfred and Arthur to tell them that he would be in the first row and that he had set up reservations for four at some place that the team always went to when they were in Nevada. 

Gilbert was first to spot Matthew in the wave of people and during his one and only singing number he took the portable microphone and brought the show to Matthew. He jumped off the side of the stage, still singing the lyrics as if they were permanently glued in his mind for the rest of his life, which earned him a cheer from men and women alike. He strutted his way down the aisles of seats until he found himself in front of Matthew, singing the slower part and urging the Canadian to stand up and dance with him, even if it was just a twirl. Matthew rolled his eyes and did as the Prussian wished, thinking it was the dorkiest thing that Gilbert could have possibly done. 

When the slower part ended and the minute long guitar solo started Gilbert quickly pecked Matthew on the cheek and hopped back onto stage trailing down the length of the catwalk in a dramatic slide, finishing the medley and running off the stage when the lights all went dark. 

Once backstage he had gotten a clap on the back from Alfred just before he and Arthur were set to go on with Ludwig and Feliciano and the rest of the backup dancers who had rejoined them after some absence in different shows. 

Through the recent shows, after the first one, they had started putting the two in and showing what was supposed to be happening on the screens above or to the sides of the stage, there being another difference between the show and film. The backup dancers, as well as Alfred and Arthur, backed off for the first part while the dance focused on Antonio and Lovino, which was just before Alfred’s singing role. The American then proceeded to pull Arthur into the dance from the side of the stage with expert coordination.

This show was the first that he not only felt individual eyes of him, but the entirety of the room's eyes. For what reason, he didn’t know but the sensation made him look out into the crowd, and regrettably so. Sitting a few filled seats away from Matthew was a face he never wanted to see again in his life, not on TV screens of talk shows, and certainly not through the radio or in person either. Sitting in that third row of one of the biggest auditoriums that Arthur had ever seen was none other than his old manager, with Kiku not even sitting three or four seats away. 

Arthur looked back to Alfred, who had been so immersed in the dance and song that he hadn’t bothered to look anywhere but Arthur even when nobody was singing or dancing during the short break where there was only decorative talking, something only Francis would be able to understand. Alfred didn’t pay any mind and continued with what Arthur was calling the longest dance of his life. The American was still wearing a face of normality, but it was clear to him now that Arthur’s bodily functions were not working the way they were a few seconds again, his moves became more choppy and he messed up on a few turns. Through a slight pause Alfred looked around the crowd to see what Arthur did. He saw that, indeed, there was someone uninvited and took the chance where he tucked his head near Arthur to whisper something. 

“You gotta work with me, Artie. I know he shouldn’t be here, but this isn’t about him.” Alfred said, panicking, trying to get everything in at once as they rocked back and forth together in the beat of the piano that came from the orchestra a few steps away. 

“He’s here Alfred.” Arthur whispered, breathing heavily. 

“Only look at me, ‘kay? When we get backstage after this we can tell Marc and security.” Alfred assured, being gentle, knowing that it was always a harsh subject for Arthur to follow and relive. Alfred gently, but quickly, pressed a kiss to Arthur’s lips and whispered reassuring little words before they were all thrust back into the high energy routine that started up again when Alfred started singing. 

Arthur managed to pull himself together when the lights came back on from the eerie blue glow that they had become before. The channel of anxious tears were gone and he only looked to Alfred, who smiled at Arthur and urged them to go on until the end. 

The dance ended much to Arthur’s and Alfred’s relief, there was only a quick time to get changed so for the first order of business they got themselves changed again, finding that there were about ten seconds before they were thrust on stage again. Alfred impatiently found Marc, and the producer, who were set up right behind the curtain. Alfred, as he walked passed to get onto the stage again, while Arthur was taken around to the curtain on the other side, decided that in order to tell Marc before the end of the show that Arthur’s ex-manager was there, that he had to do it now. 

“He’s here.” Alfred said simply, but in a fearful tone when walked by, he looked to Arthur across the way and once back to Marc. Marc mouthed the words, “Manager?” Alfred nodded and took off walking to the center of the stage. The director automatically took one look out into the crowd and then found the nearest security guards to go and get the unwanted man. 

Since the bright lights were targeted onto Alfred and Arthur it was almost impossible to see out into the crowd during the scene, but it was clear that there was a scuffle before the final actual removement of the man. With the lights lowered and the theater door closed, Arthur felt all of the worry that he had built up release and pressed on with the scenes until the end of the night. 

Finally, the dreaded feeling of being watched throughout his day and the show was gone. 

**______**

This evening was the final night of production. This was the last time that any of the cast would be seen together on a stage before the premiere of the actual film. 

The atmosphere of the room was that of normal pre-show jitters as well as nostalgia, overall it made for an effective time to give a speech. 

Just before they all went on stage, a camera was set up above the gathering circle of actors, singers, and dancers that would be on stage that night. Inside the circle Marc was walking around addressing every single one of the people gathering around him. 

“I know that last thing that you need is encouragement and confidence because we wouldn’t be here if you all didn’t have it already, but I just want to stand here and address the fact that; it has been almost half a year since the entirety of the production has started and it seems like no time has passed, but instead something had started in that time. I think that it was the result of putting so many ambitious people together and telling them to make something come to life, and you all did that and more.” Marc blabbered, “In other words, you're all really good at your jobs so just continue through whatever happens off and on the stage.” 

“Are you quite done, Marc?” Arthur inquired with a grin, there was laughter from inside the circle and a wave of smiles and nods. Marc sputtered for a bit, considering if he was actually done, almost comically. He laughed and waved everyone off to complete the final run of the show in the same place that it was started: California. 

This evening’s show, by far, was the most interactive and enjoyable they had had so far, with enough surprises and entertainment to last a while. With free roam of the stage and the ability to sing the songs they knew by heart, it was time for everyone to relax and put on a spectacular show without having to worry about a show the next day or what would happen if something went wrong in this show. 

Toward the end, after Arthur and Alfred’s last routine together and the closing of the curtains, there was a rumble of clapping and cheering that wouldn’t stop even after the five minute costume change. That was when Alfred decided something, as did the rest of the theater, and eventually, although reluctantly, Marc agreed to it; an encore. 

A few nights ago, the cast, crew, and everyone else behind the scenes sat around a large table in a conference room that was part of a theater with an adjoining hotel. In their meeting they began preparing a list of different songs that each actor could sing in the event of an encore at the last performance of the show. Now seemed like a better time than any to employ that list. 

Each was in charge of their own part of the encore as well as a few medleys or duets. The designers, on the other hand, were tasked with making elegant outfits that would be easy to move in. The lights of the stage would also begin to get darker and coloured lights would be brought on instead. 

Just as everyone finished getting changed, they stepped out onto the stage, it was as if all the previous show chairs were taken out of the theater, however, in reality, the whole audience was standing instead, waiting for the inevitable encore. 

The main cast members were set up at various corners of the stage, Gilbert to the right, Elizabeta to the left, and the rest would be in between, those being the ones with musical experience instead of just the choreography experience. From left to right was a line with a variety of pitches, highest to lowest. And not one person was not dressed in something sparkly, classy, or over the top, in fact, it was all of the above. 

“You guys really seemed to enjoy what we were putting down before so I hope you don’t mind if we do it one more time?” Alfred teased, holding a microphone and making his way passed the lines of people who were lined up in fierce poses that would pertain to the first number they all decided on. He found himself on the catwalk next to Arthur, who was standing just like everyone else behind him and Alfred. 

As soon as Alfred finished his opening announcement, the room broke out in a wave of cries, cheers, claps and whistles. Alfred looked to Arthur then turned to the rest of the talented individuals behind them, then he finally observed the crowd in front of him. The music started not even a second later, at first it resembled background noise as Alfred took in the surreal moment, but he allowed himself to return to the present and to the people he was here for, without them there would be no stage show or movie. 

The playlist included an array of things that should never meet each other in a playlist, but after a short rehearsal and a lot of experience and questionable ideas for choreography, it came together. 

The short awaited encore started when Gilbert settled in between Arthur and Alfred at the front of the stage. As soon as the instrumentals started, Gilbert, with the people behind him singing like a church choir, began the song. It slowly got faster, but Gilbert wasn’t missing a single german word. Backstage, Feliciano had somehow convinced Ludwig to help his older brother with the tune and because of the Italian’s cute face, Ludwig gave in. As a result, halfway through the first song of the encore, Ludwig joined in, much to Gilbert’s delight. 

Just before the end of the song there was a switch of positions and music, this time it was slower and the spotlight was back on Alfred and Arthur, who were doing a duet that the Director, lyricist, and choreographer put all together. Just like in the stage show and film, Arthur took the higher vocal part while Alfred took a lower one that had to be rewritten into the ballad. All the while, both Alfred and Arthur, as well as several other dancers, started in a well choreographed routine that the audience quickly became enthusiastic about. 

Gilbert, and many other dancers, joined everyone back on stage when the next song faded in. As they joined in again, it was clear that they were in different clothing, as part of another ‘wow’ factor. As the third song for the encore commenced everybody was joined at the hip again with their tango partners, with the exceptions of a few people who were told to do different pairings, the reason for that being that the Tango in the show and the film was now different as they sped it up and made it more modern, as Antonio explained it. 

Just as quickly as it started it was over with, another round of loud cheering and excitement occured as people in the audience recognised song after song. Once again Arthur was the main actor singing as Alfred, Gilbert, and Mathias took on the task of vigorously rapping the following part. It was, to Arthur, too funny not to laugh at, he just hoped that all of the crowd below him had taken out their phones and were recording the monstrosity that was happening before him, as he was hoping to see it on the internet later. A few times he had to stop singing to laugh because of how ridiculous Alfred and his posse were being, but they were charming nonetheless. 

While Alfred, Gilbert, and Mathias finished up with their solo rapping together, Arthur slipped backstage to slip on the next outfit in a matter of seconds, he also was given a thumbs up from Marc, who had a smile on and was shaking his head at Gilbert, Mathias, and Alfred, who was trying to impersonate some famous rapper and making it sound a lot worse than it should have been. 

Arthur was back on the stage when the next song came on, this time he was behind the dancers that usually did the stunts with him in the first dance scene of the movie. This routine wasn’t drastically different in that department. When Feliciano and Eliza started the main chorus Arthur joined in, doing everything that he remembered he had to do while being lifted into the air and singing. He fell into Alfred arms and allowed himself to be carried around for a second, then over to the very back of the stage to make way for the dancers that went to the front with Gilbert and Mathias, who continued to do some atrocious rapping, much to the rooms delight. 

Alfred and Arthur wandered to the side of the stage, singing along with everyone else as they all did the fast paced dancing and singing. Alfred and Arthur joined everyone else in standing near the stage, meanwhile, Alfred started his main part of the rehearsed song. Alfred and the people on stage took turns with the melody, until they stopped completely on the catwalk for the next song. 

Since the show had a higher maturity rating, they all thought it would be fine to do the next thing. Arthur took the chorus, along with a few other people, Alfred and the rest took the main verses with the most questionable lyrics. All the while in the background, Francis was making hysterical sounds that nobody wanted to ever hear outside of the bedroom. In other words, it was a mess, but a flawless one that worked far too well. 

After the fifteen mark of the encore, the writers and stage managers decided that one more song would be fine and scheduled one more. Music started once again while Arthur, much to his discomfort, was dueting with Francis, who was all too happy about this arrangement. The Englishman just told himself that the Frenchman was there for moral support, and the French lyrics of the song. Lucky for Arthur, all he had to do was put up with the smell of cheese right next to him while he and Alfred did the random dancing that Antonio had instructed them all to do. 

Alfred was smiling when Arthur looked back at him from Francis, who had just gotten to his part that was followed by an instrumental break. Arthur’s grip on Alfred was a bit awkward as he was holding a microphone, something they had exchanged their smaller portable mics for. The one Arthur had now was obviously too big for his hand, but they still managed to do a little lift until Arthur was supposed to start his verse again. There was one word before both Alfred and Arthur knew that they were done with the song, Arthur made sure to finish without error, knowing that the show was officially over.

The whole idea of the production being over, since the time that the film started, was a mixture of strange and exciting. The next top priority on the list of things to do in the following months was the premiere of the film that both audiences, who had seen the stage shows, and the actors, who starred in the movie, were highly looking forward to. 


	22. “Don’t wanna die young, the City of Angels where I have my fun…..when I’m gone remember all I’ve done.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred had built up a bundle of excitement when he saw the red carpet and the many photographers lining up just outside the velvet robe that led all the way to the giant doors of the theater that would display the first screening of the film. Of course it was always weird seeing himself on the silver screen, but still the thrill was always there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from City of Angels by 24kGoldn
> 
> Yes, this one is sort of the black sheep of the bunch of songs, but it worked out. I've been told this comes from tiktock, but I honestly couldn't give less of a shit, 'tis a bop indeed. 
> 
> A/N I would just like to say that yes, I cry a little inside when I spell something wrong, ur not the only one. 
> 
> Anywho, last chapter, wowie. However, I still struggled with the ending lines of this ff, I hope they are sufficient enough for the purpose of completion, maybe in three more years I will have the words to actually express how it should end.

**Chapter Twenty-two: Premiere**

From the time that the shows ended until the end of the month, not much changed, with the exception of new roles and the overall busy lifestyle of an actor. 

Since the shows ended, Arthur and Alfred had both been offered new roles in up and coming films, not in the same one, although that was a normality. The new adjustment simply meant that the two would only see each other in the evenings and would no longer take the same vehicle to the same studio.

On a high note, work started later in the morning and ended around five, leaving them with enough time together before they would normally head to bed. It also meant that there was more than enough time for ‘activities’ and other romantic things that Alfred talked Arthur into. 

The days were filled with calls from Peter, who Arthur had just decided to send a cell phone. Arthur wouldn’t doubt that Peter was the youngest boy in his Primary school to have a cell phone, but if he meant that Alice would stop complaining about the data usage of the phone then it was worth it. Besides, it meant that the boy could call Arthur and Alfred at any time he wanted or needed to. 

Hence that was what Arthur was doing now. Peter had been on the line with Arthur for a little over forty five minutes, much to Alfred’s annoyance, not at Peter but at the fact that they were in a time crunch. 

“C'mon, Artie!” Alfred begged, flattening himself over Arthur’s legs as the Brit sat on the couch. When Arthur looked at him is when he decided on saything something again, “We’re gonna be late, gorgeous.” Alfred flattered. 

“What have I said about the pet names?” Arthur whisper-yelled as Peter mumbled on the other end of the phone.    
  


“But they want us to be there earlier, ‘cause we’re like the stars and everything.” Alfred ran a hand through his hair, looking suave. 

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the cell phone he almost never used, unless it was to talk to Peter or Alfred. 

“Where are you going?” Peter asked on the other end of the phone having caught what Alfred had said, “Is it important? Are you coming here?” The boy’s voice on the other end was suddenly very excited after talking for many minutes about how there was nobody to play with at home, or at school, even though sometimes he’d rather use the online studies instead. 

“I’m afraid not Peter, but it is quite important. I hope you wouldn’t mind if I were to say ‘goodbye’ now?” Arthur said smoothly, being as gentle as he could with Peter. 

“Okay! Will you be on the telly?” Peter quizzed, Arthur could hear his running footsteps go into another hardwood floored room and then some background noise as he turned on the TV before Arthur had even said anything. In the background Alice was yelling at Peter to stop running in the house. 

“Indeed we will be. Alfred, love, which channel?” 

“Uh–three.” Alfred answered, finding the remote and turning the TV on to find the pre-premiere status and alerts. At least, from what they could tell, not one of the actors was there yet. 

Alfred had built up a bundle of excitement when he saw the red carpet and the many photographers lining up just outside the velvet robe that led all the way to the giant doors of the theater that would display the first screening of the film. Of course it was always weird seeing himself on the silver screen, but still the thrill was always there. 

As soon as Arthur said goodbye to Peter and hung up the phone, Alfred sat up and requested the butler in the house to find the limousine that would transport them there. He then made sure that the car that Alfred wanted to drive home on the way back was also prepared. As the butler nodded, Alfred thanked the man who peacefully walked outside the front door and motioned that both cars would be transported there and back. 

“Now can we go Arthur?” Alfred whined, waiting to run out the front door like a dog that didn’t want to be inside or on a leash. 

“One moment.” Arthur spoke leisurely, standing up and placing himself close to Alfred to give him a once over, and he was glad he did, as the man could never tie a bow tie right, “Now I suppose we can.” 

“Yay!” Alfred cheered, he kissed Arthur on the lips and held his hand, almost dragging him out into the cooling evening air to the long black car with the red interior. 

Each man was dressed to the nines in outfits they had forgotten that they even owned. Alfred was in one of his favourite suits that was classy yet comfortable. Arthur was in something similar to his red outfit from the film, but it was black to match Alfred’s since the American had talked him into it. Besides, he didn’t always love the idea of wearing a suit and this garment was an easy combination of practical, classy, and androgenous, yet still resembled dress clothes. 

Once they were almost near the gates of theater and could see the hundreds, if not thousands, of people lining up outside the building and along the streets. Those being tourists who were trying to see if they could see a celebrity, and they got what they wanted. Alfred decided, being the cocky actor he is, to open the sunroof on the top of the limousine and wave to the people on the boulevard. He even went so far as to pull Arthur up so that the Brit could stand in front of him while the long car drove past tons of people who were screaming and waving at both Alfred and Arthur, who were sticking out of the top of the car, waving back to the bystanders. 

Just in case Arthur tried to go back down into the compartment, Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur’s middle and placed his head on Arthur's shoulder. 

“What’s all this about?” Arthur leaned back against Alfred’s chest that was anchored to his back. Even though it was almost eighty or ninety degrees, Arthur still had the instinct to cuddle himself up close to Alfred. 

“Nothing. I just always thought it was cool, plus I love you so I am supposed to do cool things for you.” Alfred mumbled into the blonde's ear, to which he relaxed at, smiling, before attempting to elbow Alfred in the stomach.He whispered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “You're too much”, but Alfred just turned him around and kept smiling, Arthur smiled back and couldn’t help but give Alfred a kiss, grinning through the whole thing. 

The crowds along the street continued to get bigger as they continuously made it closer to the premiere sight. There were people screeching and trying to get the American and British men's attention. When the driver finally pulled up to the carpet, a valet man opened the door and let the two out into the crowds of cameras and other people on the long red carpet that led straight to the front door of the theater. 

Alfred hopped out first and went back to get Arthur, who was about to step out of the limo when Alfred reached for his hand and ushered him out like a gentleman. Marc was waiting at the entrance with a big smile and the producer standing right next to him. 

“I trust you know how this process works? Go down the row, pose, and do everything you would normally do. Eventually you’ll see Parcy and the theater bell boy who will show you two to the seats.” Marc instructed. Arthur looked over to where the row of cameras were already flashing and there was a low rumble of talking and other people waiting and watching. A few of the film’s actors were already there with their plus ones as well as some additional guests that they invited. There were also a plethora of well-known critics that would be writing the reviews for the movie, they were ones that could make or break the film's reputation. The photographers and interviews also took up their own place near the edge of the carpet. 

Arthur nodded in acknowledgment to Marc as Alfred placed a large hand on his waist and started along toward the building. Both were excited, but Arthur insisted that he had a surprise for Alfred, who became undoubtedly even more thrilled about the premiere and whatever Arthur had in store for him.

“Why are you so restless, Artie?” Alfred quizzed, walking faster, mostly an effect of Arthur’s proclamation. Arthur smiled, keeping pace with Alfred as best as he could in the shoes Francis recommended—more or less pressured him to wear—as the ones he had decided on before apparently ’didn’t match’. 

“You’ll very well see why!” Arthur teased, placing a hand to Alfred’s shoulder which brought on the attention of the photographers that they were asked to stop for and cooperate with. Though, neither Alfred or Arthur wanted to stop and answer questions or take pretty internet ready pictures in front of sponsored backgrounds, but they did so anyway because they were asked nicely to do so. 

It was almost like standing back in the studio with Leon talking the pictures again, as the current photographers were asking the two to do certain poses, anything that would look good on a screen. Luckily, they were simple things such as ‘put your arm around his waist’ or ‘move that piece of clothing to make it look better’. The two opted for not doing anything that could cause a frenzy, as much as Alfred wanted to kiss Arthur, he didn’t and Arthur wouldn’t allow it, at least not on the red carpet. Once inside the venue the two were more versatile. 

Arthur, though, was nervous, yet excited, to show Alfred something, but Alfred couldn’t figure out what. Arthur kept on insisting that it wasn’t as big of a deal as he was making it but Alfred was still over the Moon with elation.

Once they were settled in their seats, they set everything they needed down and made their way out of the theater; that was slowly beginning to get more and more crowded by the second. Alfred held Arthur’s hand through the entire walk back down the red carpet, making sure not to get in anyone else's way, they only stopped twice to talk with Ludwig and Feliciano, whom were already way ahead of the bigger group that was just behind them, and then a second time to chat with Antonio and Lovino, whom were right behind Ludwig and Feli.

Alfred and Arthur found the group that Feliciano and Ludwig had been talking about. It was about the majority of the cast and then some. The other’s that Arthur noticed right away were the very people he was waiting to see. He had exercised a little gift for Alfred, though it was never going to be as grand as the things that Alfred did for him, it was something. 

Arthur had called Alfred’s parents and brother and asked them to decline going to the premiere if Alfred asked. Instead, Arthur sent them the invites and the plane tickets to surprise Alfred. 

Needless to say, the face that Alfred made once he saw his parents was adorably priceless.

“I thought you said you couldn’t come?” Alfred questioned, in a happy state of shock. 

“We couldn’t come because Arthur invited us first.” Amelia smiled, laughing and looking over at Arthur, who stood in a smaller silhouette next to Alfred.

“Is this payback, Arthur?” Alfred turned to his boyfriend. Arthur just elbowed him in the rib. “Wait, doesn’t that mean that Matt’s here too?” Alfred looked back to Arthur who rolled his eyes. 

“Of course he is. He just isn’t here for you...” Arthur uncrossed his arms and pointed over to where Matthew was, dressed in a brightly coloured suit standing next to Gilbert, laughing hysterically at something that Gilbert had just said. They decided to leave the two alone as they were next in line to get onto the carpet and get photographed. 

Alfred turned back to Arthur, smiling. He watched his parents as they were escorted into the crowd of people that they just escaped interviews and photographs, “Why would you do that to me Artie? I thought you loved me?” Alfred pouted. Arthur rolled his eyes, using one of his uncrossed arms to brush some of the thick blonde hair out of Alfred’s eyes. 

“I do, of course. But you're always surprising me, I figured I’d return the favor.” Arthur explained. Alfred didn’t lose his smile and despite being in the middle of a highly populated area, Alfred gathered Arthur in his arms and lifted him off the ground in a bear hug, spinning him around once or twice for a dramatic effect. 

Arthur and Alfred caught up with Alfred’s parents, following the large group into the theater again. 

Everyone was set up in the same general vicinity and were all provided with all of the cocktails and drinks and snacks that they wanted. Alfred’s parents were set one row down from the two and it was obvious that Amelia was crazily enthusiastic. Across the aisle, Feliciano and Antonio joined in with the enthusiasm. The realization that the film was actually being complete and ready for viewing was a thing that happened so very often in Alfred and Arthur’s lives, but it was always different. This film in particular was set apart from the rest because of the unfortunate situation that Arthur originally had to compensate for behind the scenes. That is until Alfred came along and shook things up a little. Additionally, it was the first time either of them had walked off a set completely enamoured before. 

It was always nerve wracking to have so many people view a creation that you were a part of. Ultimately the goal is that the product is well received by the audience and that it is critiqued in a positive way. But with a film filled with so many congenial actors who were brilliant at their craft, it would likely be everything they thought it would be and more. 

Before the film started, the producer and Marc were up on the stage that was inherently small compared to the screen above them. The producer was the first one to say a few words and recognise the talented individuals who all sat in the crowd, whether those were the actors or staff that helped behind the scenes to keep the production running smoothly. Marc went next, telling stories that went along with the filming process as well as more acknowledgements that came with a few laughs. 

“In conclusion to everything I have been rambling about, we would like to ask that you all stay until the very end of the credits to recognise all of the people that have been working on this film as well as to enjoy some outtakes from filming and appreciate the mess ups from our actors. Thank you.” Marc finished and returned the microphone to stage staff before jumping off the stage to his seat a few rows away.

Amelia was almost sure that she was going to scream once the opening started. Arthur felt mostly the same but from a mixture of excitement, nervousness, and anxiety. The green eyed man looked down at the arm rest that Alfred had his arm on and pushed it upwards so that Alfred’s arm fell, directing his attention away from the screen and onto Arthur, who huffed and snuggled himself under Alfred’s arm as the American’s new arm rest. Alfred obviously didn’t mind and continued to look at the silver screen, occasionally looking back to Arthur, who was resting his face on Alfred’s shoulder. 

As the movie started, Alfred’s first scenes alone began, giving backstory before Arthur’s character started getting involved. As it progresses Alfred meets Tino, Berwald, and Mathias’, who are able to convey the story effortlessly through their words and movements. The Englishman could almost hear Alfred’s heart beat when he saw himself on screen, he felt the younger man move his head to gaze up into the balcony where he knew the critics were, he then took in the faces of the people around him. Arthur couldn’t figure out what Alfred was worrying about because, personally, he felt that Alfred’s performance was phenomenal. He patted the American’s fabric encased chest to reassure him that everything was supremely well done. The American ended up reaching for Arthur’s hand and holding it through the rest of the movie.

When Arthur himself jumped onto screen he was astounded that he wasn’t as completely terrified of what he would see, but something inside of him knew to trust Anri and her makeup skills. Much to his delight, Arthur’s wounds were essentially invisible and the whole complicated dancing scene that they all had to do in one take went down perfectly. He looked around to find Anri, who had also been invited to the show, he found her sitting next to her brother, he gave her a look of relief and joy that the Belgian women conveyed back to him and proceeded to turn her attention back to the screen. He then turned his head to look at Amelia, who was ecstatic with the scene of the giant screen, in fact the good majority of the theater was. Arthur included. There was something about the way that he and Alfred were dancing in the middle of everyone else while effortlessly going through line after line like it was an everyday conversation, even though it was so prettily spoken and detailed, that made it irresistible to look away from. 

As soon as the main plot started to come into play, Amelia was crying. The woman obviously thought that she knew what was going to happen at the end of the film because of the stage shows, however, she had clearly forgotten that Alfred had told her something about an alternate ending. Regardless of that fact, the poor American woman wasn’t the only one who was in the audience crying.

Although, Arthur was about to be the one crying when he remembered the up and coming scene that progressed the movie forward. First in the lineup was the make out scene that didn’t go down as smoothly as anyone wanted it to the first time, nevertheless the movie’s take was excellent. After that was Gilbert and Francis’ part that had the whole entire theater laughing hysterically and once more after that was the long awaited sex scene that had gotten way too real way to fast. Albeit, it was edited to perfection, taking only the parts that seemed fit. However, no matter how awkward it was for Alfred and Arthur to watch, it added a foolproof element that showed the capability of the film ending in a lovely and needed way. 

Arthur soon decided to unbury his face from inside Alfred’s blazer, the first thing he saw was Amelia sitting ahead of them and smirking while giving a thumbs up. Arthur rolled his eyes and reburied himself, while Alfred, who also had a hint of red on his cheeks, tried not to laugh loudly. 

Just like in the live shows, the dancing scenes offered the most reactions from the audience, who were enamoured with the stories that they told, the extravagant costuming, and various movements within each number. 

The finished product offered standing ovations and an abundant wave of non-stop clapping and cheering when the film ended. The final scene introduced the alternate ending that had been put in place instead of the original bittersweet conclusion. The aurora of the room was lively and overjoyed with the success of the film that had, so far, been well received. 

Amelia was elated to see the final ending of the film. The actors, who hadn’t seen the film yet were impressed with the final product and offered their own standing respects toward the credits of the film. After a good few minutes or so of continuous hand-bruising applause, the full seats of people were once again sat and looking at the end of the credits where outtakes were starting to play. 

There were all sorts of bloopers that the editors had decided to keep as well as the behind the scenes. It made the movie slightly longer than it should have been, but nobody seemed to mind as they stared at the screen laughing at the things that were happening. 

The scenes went in a chronological order starting from first to last scenes and even from the beginning of filming, specifically the more funny things. 

There was footage of the day that Feliks was hanging from the ceiling with Gilbert swing him back and forth. At the same time, Eliza was hitting people with a frying pan. In a different clip, Marc had already flipped down the black and white movie snap board and started a scene but nobody was doing what they were supposed to, they were all looking at something on Alfred’s cell phone, Marc sighed and cut the scene, which then gained the attention of the actors. 

The outtakes went continuously throughout the dance scenes and many others that were amusing to watch and wonder how they even happened. One of which was a choreographed scene that was always having to be redone, in one of the first cuts they were in the middle of a lift, so Alfred just settled for carrying Arthur around for a while. In a whole other dancing scene there was a circle around something, though you couldn’t tell from where the camera was, though as soon as the cameraman moved you could see that there was a circle around people taking turns dancing absurdly.

The rest were countless dance mess ups and random things that the crew would laugh and talk about. Most clips almost made the cast, including Arthur, feeling nostalgic about it all. Some were just the actors getting in the way of the camera, making a dumb face and fleeing. There were even one or two that took the camera and walked around with it and introduced everyone and everything. The editors, who had known both Arthur and Alfred for a while, decided to make their faces go red by putting in the blooper of the time that during the major make out scene where they didn’t stop. One of them was even a video of Peter on the stage going through the entirety of the dance with the professional crew, he clearly wasn’t doing it right but it offered a few ‘awes’ from the masses in the theater. 

The clips finally ended when the screen went dark and the lights of the theater brightened again. Once again there was a deafening roar of applause and final comments were made before people were let out the building. 

Some stayed behind talking, while Alfred stayed behind like he always did after premieres. Of course, Arthur didn’t know this yet but would soon learn why. Alfred had asked Arthur to gather his things and parents, and meet outside the building while he went to get something. The shorter of the two shrugged it off and let Alfred peck him on the cheek before excusing himself from everyone else in the room. 

The whole waiting time was filled with Amelia talking off both Allen and Arthur’s ears about the movie, as well as multiple solo and partner pictures with numerous people. About ten minutes later, Alfred was back and carrying a dark unlabeled CD case and smiling like an idiot. 

“Please do tell me that's something other than what I assume it to be.” Arthur begged, allowing Alfred to grab his blazer again and throw it over his shoulder while his other hand held the CD. 

“I’m afraid not, Artie. I had the editors make me a hard copy of just our sex tape. Now we can watch it whenever we want!” Alfred said laughing, trying to be serious and failing. 

Arthur bit his lip, pretending not to smile to keep up the act, “Oh bother. I can just imagine how many people would kill for that.” Arthur chided, and let Alfred put an arm around his waist as they followed Amelia and Allen out of the gated red carpet area. 

“I know right! I think I’m going to sell a copy on ebay.” Alfred joked, making Arthur laugh as well. 

“But I am quite curious as to what I waited ten minutes for you to get. I listened to your ever so lovely mother talk myself and your dad's ear off about the film.” Arthur reminisced, telling Alfred of the horrors he had to face while standing outside, not that a very excited middle aged woman was a bad thing, it was just exhausting to listen to. 

“Remember when I showed you my theater downstairs and said that sometimes people come over to watch stuff?” Alfred recalled, Arthur nodded, “I always get a separate copy from the producers and editors so there can be an encore after any movie I do!” Alfred said happily, he stopped just before the edge of the street right after Amelia and Allen. 

  
“Are you telling me that everyone is going to be returning to your house again tonight?” Arthur questioned, looking up at Alfred, who was watching his parents be ushered into the limousine that he and Arthur arrived in. Alfred then waited for his own car that one of the butlers brought to the valet. The gentlemanly American let Arthur into the car first before running over to the other side of the car that was expensive enough to put a down payment on a house, and settled himself into the driver's seat, following the long black car that they saw Amelia and Allen go into. 

“They are. Unless you don’t want them to. We could always do something else.” 

“It’s perfectly fine, love. I wouldn’t mind that at all.” Arthur smiled, allowing Alfred to hold his hand with one of his own while having the other on the steering wheel.

The large mansion was filled to the brim with lights, cars, and people. As far as the eye could see the house was magnificent, as were the people it was currently holding. 

Alfred parked the car and ran as fast as he could to open the passenger door for Arthur, who seemed touched, but confused. They walked close together through the front door of the house. All of the large living rooms lights were on as well as the music. The butlers had set everything up after the two actors left, and made appetizers and cocktails as well as cleaned and set up the theater chairs in the basement. 

Not one person in the household was without a separate bag because of the fact that many of them were staying the night in the large mansion with various bedrooms. The majority of the house that Alfred and Arthur lived in was largely unexplored and left untouched unless it was for large gatherings such as this. 

The after party was the main focal point of the living room. The entire cast and a few extras were gathering in the living room where they were all happily served by the butlers and maids that went around. However, the attention was then switched to the two walking in the door, but the party resumed soon enough. 

There was a slight shuffle, small talk, and room declarations. Then a call to Arthur’s newly assigned security team to detain Francis for stripping on the coffee table. Though, if he was a few years younger Arthur might have put on the red pumps and hopped on the coffee table as well, but something told him that he definitely didn’t want this experience to be like the few before. As the night continued, Arthur eventually headed toward his and Alfred’s shared bedroom.

The glasses-wearing blonde decided to join Arthur. When Alfred saw the Englishman again he was already stripped from the designer outfit that he had downed on earlier and was now in his pajamas that always consisted of one of Alfred’s shirts—something that the maids would always have to unwrinkle afterwards. Arthur then decided to dig into his side of the walk in closet and pull on the heaviest and fluffiest sweater he could find. Alfred raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend who was standing in front of the large mirror and trying to make sure that nothing else was showing. 

“A little hot for that isn’t it, sugar?” Alfred asked, standing behind Arthur in the mirror. 

Arthur looked down for a second at the entire, he nodded and shredded off the fluffy white sweater, going as far as to hang it up in the closet again, “Indeed, it is.” Arthur then stood in the room, lost. 

Alfred could tell something was up. Arthur looked dismantled, and kept quiet through a lot of the after party that was still going on. The pretty blonde man also wouldn’t stop looking in the mirror, which gave the blue eyed American the key. Alfred jumped up from his place on the bed that he had sat on as he watched Arthur prance around the room in a ungraceful and choppy way. 

The blued eyed man settled himself between Arthur’s shoulder blades, and leaned down once to kiss the other’s neck, making Arthur settled down for a second. 

“It’s quite frustrating.” Arthur said smalley, not looking up from the floor or to Alfred who was standing behind him. 

“It’s gonna be fine.” Alfred said simply, and somehow it was everything Arthur needed to hear. Still the reminder was too much sometimes. The healing of the scars, cuts, bruises, and everything else was relatively slow, but he was getting used to not being hit or cut again. The situation left an ugly scar on Arthur both physically and mentally, and it was hard to deal with sometimes. But wounds take time to heal and Alfred was right there behind him, kissing it better as best he could, however, the rest was up to Arthur.

“They already all know, how could it be any worse?” Arthur questioned, mostly to himself other than the single person in the room. 

“They would never say anything, plus we know ‘em all like family. And If that’s not enough you always have me!” Alfred grinned and turned Arthur around so that the shorter of the two was facing him.

“I suppose you're right.” Arthur said, cutting it short as if he had more to say but didn’t. He instead opted for initiating a kiss to Alfred first instead of letting the overconfident American do it. However, the cocky American just decided to be himself and advance it, enough to push Arthur lightly against the wall closest to the door with a small thud. Arthur went along with it and turned his head enough to broaden the angle, Arthur lifted his leg the slightest bit to push himself closer to Alfred. 

The two, after a few minutes, found the common sense and decency to break apart and allow Alfred to change into his pajamas and to join the people they invited in the first place. As for the rest of the night, all of Arthur’s fears and insecurities went dormant because of a few simple and caring words. 

The changing of expensive clothing became a trend in the household, the talking settled down, and the guests set their belongings in their respected bedrooms. The twenty some guests were gathered in the theater by the time Alfred and Arthur joined, still being served drink after drink. 

Alfred had done the honors of popping the disk into the player and then running back to where he and Arthur were sitting next to Ludwig and Feliciano with Matthew and Gilbert in front of them, near the middle of the theater. 

Once again, the movie replayed and everything felt like a replay of the worst and best times of each life in the room. 

Alfred sat beside Arthur feeling him breathe slowly, he picked up his arm and put it around Arthur’s shoulders, allowing the other to snuggle in more. The two as well as the rest of the actors in the room watched the screens like a hawk and mentally took notes on what they would’ve done differently, but after watching it all and then some Alfred decided something. 

He wouldn’t change a thing. 

Not anyone of the stumbled lines that purposely made it in or the questionable bloopers, nor the hard times that went with it all. Because if he wouldn’t have gotten the lead role that was partnered with one Arthur Kirkland, then he never would have had what he had now. At this point in his, so far, young life he thought he had it all, but he realised that it was nothing without Arthur, he knew he needed that extra flare that the Brit added. The moment when the two of their lives mingled together was one that was made for the movie screens.

**THE END.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will come back here in Three more years and rethink everything I just fixed and so on and so forth, this will just be an ever evolving, living, document and I might not be the best thing that I have ever written, but it definitely has taken up a weird place in my cold dead heart.
> 
> Imma yeet myself outta here now.

**Author's Note:**

> Everything is edited and all I have to do is post everything. 
> 
> Before this I was really contemplating on whether or not to edit the original or create a completely separate document and in the end I obvious decent on a completely different one, the reason being that there are so many amazing people who have commented and kudos-ed(?) the other one and I didn't want the suddenly change it (Even if it it a load of shit, seriously what was I thinking???) Anyway, this is here. Also weird fun fact there is a playlist with songs that pertain to the chapters, I am just debating on whether or not to write the actual title that way.


End file.
